Wayward Sons
by belgium-morning
Summary: Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will send him to America to meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How will they react?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's pilot episode and Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

**AN:** So this is my first attempt at Supernatural and I'm pretty nervous about posting this. Feedback would be greatly appreciated. Next order of business...this was inspired by Kirallie's awesome story "Meet Uncle John", which all of you should go read, and it was Kirallie who was kind enough to beta this for me. So many thanks chica! If any of you have read my stories in the past, you know that I am notoriously bad about regularly posting. I'm going to try being more consistant but please bear with me. Timelines have been messed with for both series, PM me if you want to know precisely how.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

_Carry on my wayward son  
There'll be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
Don't you cry no more_

_"Carry on Wayward Son" Kansas_

**~*~*~ **

**Twenty-two years ago – Lawrence, Kansas**

Mary Winchester smiled as she entered the room of her youngest son, Sam. He was smiling happily up at the spinning mobile above him, his eyes bright with delight. Her older son, Dean was held safely in her arms. He was leaning forward excitedly, anxious to see his brother.

"Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother," she murmured. He scrambled out of her arms and ran over to the crib. He leaned carefully over the side and placed a soft kiss on the baby's brow.

"Good night Sam," he said quietly; the younger boy's eyes diverted for a moment to watch his older brother. A figure entered the room, smiling happily at the scene of the two boys.

"Hey Dean."The small blond four year old spun around quickly, a large smile plastered on his face.

"Daddy!" He ran as quickly as his small legs could carry him, launching himself into his father's arms. John caught his son easily, swinging him up to face his mom and brother.

"Hey buddy, what do you think? You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?" He teased gently. Dean shook his head, his blond tresses swinging wildly. He giggled lightly.

"No Daddy."

"No?" John countered, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise; only the corners of his lips quirking up slightly gave him away. Mary walked over to the pair, smiling.

"You got him?" she murmured quietly. He affirmed just as quietly before focusing on his second son, turning off the light. "Sweet dreams, Sammy."

Later that night, the mother of two was sleeping peacefully when the baby monitor on the nightstand sounded. She slowly opened her eyes and turned on the light. "John?" Mary turned to see that her husband was not in bed and threw the covers off. Padding silently across the room to her son's room she saw her husband standing next to Sam's crib. She relaxed subtly seeing him. "John is he hungry?" she asked quietly, so as not to disturb the pair.

He turned his head slightly, "Shh."

"Okay." She walked away, knowing her son was in good hands. A flickering light caught her attention. Mary tapped it lightly until it stopped. "Mmm." Now that she was at the end of the hallway she heard the faint murmur of the television. She headed down figuring John had been watching it and left it on accidently. However she saw him asleep in the chair and panic flared in her chest. "Sammy! Sammy!" She raced back to her son's bedroom.

John was awakened that night by his wife's pain filled scream. "Mary?! Mary! Mary!" His shouts filled the house as he took the stairs two at a time. He quickly found himself in his son's room but only saw his son in his crib. He headed over to confirm that the baby was indeed there and unharmed. "Hey, Sammy. Okay?"

The baby gurgled at his father and John rubbed his head affectionately. He saw a red spot on his son's sheets and slid his hand down. Another red spot dotted his hand and he glanced up. The sight was horrible. Mary was staring at him, her face a mask of terror and her stomach viciously slashed.

John crumbled slightly, away from the sight. "No! Mary!" Before he had a chance to think, her body erupted in flames and Sammy began crying, large fat tears running down his chubby cheeks. His heart wrenching, he grabbed his son and fled the room.

In the hallway, Dean ran towards his parents' room, the flames lighting his face. "Daddy!" His father had just emerged from his brother's room, carrying a small bundle of blankets. John carefully and quickly handed over the baby.

"Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Don't look back!" Dean hesitated for a second, scared of walking through the fire. "Now Dean, go!" As soon as the boy was gone, John started towards the nursery again, which was almost entirely engulfed by flames. "Mary! No!"

Dean ran faster than he had ever run in his short life, clinging desperately to his baby brother. It was hard to see with the ash and fire flying around but he finally made it to the front door. A burst of cool air hit him as he ran from the house. The blond stopped on the lawn and turned back. "It's okay, Sam," he said gently, trying to calm both himself and his terrified brother.

John sprinted up behind them and pulled them both into his arms, just as a window erupted in a fiery blaze. "I gotcha." Like Dean, he said it to assure the boys but also himself.

**~*~*~**

**Sixteen years ago – Godric's Hollow, England**

James Potter was smiling down at the sleeping infant beside him on the couch. Harry was lying on his stomach, his arms curled beneath him and his bottom stuck straight in the air. His breathing was light and even. Lily entered from the kitchen and stopped upon seeing her boys. She slowly made her way over to the couch, leaning over to get a better view.

"He gets this from your side, you know that right?" he teased, an easy smile playing on his lips. She merely rolled her eyes and ran her hand over her son's baby soft hair.

"Well, at least it's better than his flyaway hair!" She jested softly. She smiled before continuing. "Poor guy's not gonna know what to do with it!"

"Oh, c'mon, Potter hair is all part of the charm," James' grin widened. "It worked on you..."

"I believe it did..." Lily leaned further over and brushed her lips across her husband's. Before it could deepen however, a sound was suddenly blaring through their small house. James looked wildly at the entrance.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off—" He jumped up and ran towards the figure looming in the hallway, not glancing back at his small family. She grabbed her screaming son as she ran towards the backdoor. Seeing a red sheen covering the door, she knew she wouldn't be able to get out. She fled up the stairs into her son's nursery, just as an acid green light filled the hall. Slamming the door shut behind her she ran to the window trying to wrench it open, her tears falling into her son's soft curls.

"It's okay, baby. Mama's gonna make it all okay..." She said, trying to calm the child as she realized it was futile. She heard the creak of the stairs and set her son in the crib, kissing his head one last time and positioning herself in front just as the door was blasted open.

The figure approached silently, his dark cloak swaying about him gently in the nonexistent breeze. Lily felt fear grip her heart and her tears falling steadily down her face.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" She cried as the man continued to advance.

His voice was harsh and cold as he spoke, "Stand aside, you silly girl...stand aside, now..."

Lily shook her head violently, throwing her arms out wide so as to create a bigger barrier between this man and her son. "Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—"

"This is your last warning, child. Stand aside!"

But she just shook her head, not moving as he took a step forward. Fear was in her shimmering green eyes but so was determination. If she was willing to die for her son, then so be it. "Not Harry! Not Harry! Please! I'll do anything – Not Harry! Please...have mercy...have mercy..."

Growing tired of her pleas, he raised his wand and with a flash of blinding green light the young woman was dead. Sudden exhilaration sprung up inside the man and he opened his mouth letting a high, cold, cruel laugh escape. He stared at the small child before him, his green eyes puffy from crying, tear tracks apparent on its red cheeks. The man raised his wand a third time and for the final time that night the room was illuminated with green light. This time however, twin screams of pain pierced the night before the house finally fell silent.

**~*~*~**

**July 31, 2006 – Surrey, England**

Seventeen year old Harry Potter was sitting in his aunt's kitchen, going through a box of old things from his mother's family. There were pictures of his grandfather from the war and newspaper clippings of his great-uncle's marriage to the local vicar's daughter. Beside him on the table were his grandmother's journal and a photo album that was filled with old pictures of his mother and aunt. She said he could have anything he wanted, that everything had been gathering dust in the attic for years.

_6 July, 1958_

_Today was one of the best and worst days of my life! Anne Marie and I were driving through Kansas on our way to New Orleans when our car broke down just outside a little town called Lawrence. We tried to figure out what the problem was but I know next to nothing about cars and Anne Marie knows even less. Just as we were about to start walking into town to get help, a car full of American boys pulls up beside us and offers to help. They could have done whatever they wanted to our car and we wouldn't have noticed, not when we were watching them work. I couldn't help noticing one in particular. His name was Winchester..._

Harry skipped ahead a few pages to the next entry.

_7 July, 1958_

_Allen Winchester is the type of man every girl wants: sexy, polite, kind, great ass! And he kissed me! And it was amazing! Best kiss of my life! I can't wait to see him again. We were supposed to leave tomorrow but I begged Anne Marie to let us stay an extra day, it's not like we're on a schedule or anything._

He flipped through the journal, not really wanting to read about his eighteen year old grandmother's love life. Harry started to set it aside when a passage caught his attention.

_13 Sept, 1958_

_I'M PREGNANT! I don't know what I'm going to do, who to tell. Oh my god, I have to tell Allen! But how? I mean this isn't something you tell over the phone, but I really don't have the money to fly to the States, let alone the money to take care of a baby. A baby. I'm having a baby. What do I do?_

Green eyes flashed as he continued reading about the uncle he never knew he had. Apparently, after Grace Watson had the baby, a boy, she gave him to his father to raise. He was older than her by several years and could take care of the child. When Grace was twenty four, she returned Kansas to talk with Allen about being a part of John's life but as she pulled up to the house, she saw her little boy running around the yard with his father and a woman her son was calling "mommy". She decided not to disrupt her five year olds life and left without ever saying a word. A year later, she married the love of her life, Edward Evans and soon afterwards, they had a baby girl, Petunia. Lily was born two years later.

_2 April, 1988_

_I'm dying, at least that's what the doctors tell me. My heart is wearing out. Eddy would have joked that I always take things too literally; that I died of a broken heart. God, how I miss that man. Sometimes it's hard to get up in the morning knowing he won't be there. I'm happy that we'll finally be together again but sad that I'm leaving my girls too soon. If I could have any wish before I die, it'd be to see them together and happy, like they used to be. I know I've made mistakes, too many to count but I hope they can forgive me, all of them. _

_Petunia, darling, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I couldn't give you. Don't blame your sister, blame me and let your anger die with me. I love you and I'm proud of you. You can do anything so long as you believe in yourself. Don't ever forget that._

_Lily, my light. Don't ever lose that which burns brightest within you. Take care of your sister, for me. She needs your love as I once did. I love you and I know you will be alright. You're strong and caring. _

_John, oh my little John. It is for you I weep the most. If I could change anything in my life, it would be giving you up. I was young and stupid. The only thing I did right by you was giving you the family you so rightly deserved. I hope you lived a happy life, and I miss you with every breath that I take. I love you. I want you to know that I have always loved you._

Harry turned the page and saw that there were no more entries, just an obituary dated three weeks later. He looked over at the clock on the microwave and saw it was nearly dinner. He began packing things back into the box and gathered up the two journals and the photo album. Tucking them safely in his backpack, he carried everything outside onto the front step and glanced back at his childhood home. It looked just the same as it always did, the same as all the other houses on the block. He turned away one last time and apparated out of sight.


	2. Part I: Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from the Supernatural episode "Dead Man's Blood". I got the transcripts from TwizTv. I also don't own the songs.

**AN:** Here's the first chapter. First, I used the transcripts from the last few episodes of season one as the foundation for the first parts of the story. Obviously there will be differences as Harry is incorporated. Next, thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who read and/or reviewed my story. I was shocked (shocked and grateful!) at the amount of the attention a simple prologue recieved. Hopefully this and future chapters live up to everyone's expectations. Also thanks to Kirallie for betaing this for me, you rock chica! She keeps all of you from suffering my horrible comma addiction.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

**Part I: Dead Man's Blood**

**~*~*~**

_All of my memories keep you near._

_In silent moments, _

_Imagine you'd be here._

_All of my memories keep you near._

_In silent whispers, silent tears._

_"Memories" Within Temptation_

**~*~*~**

**October 25, 2006 – Manning, Colorado **

The bar was an out of the way place, only frequented by locals or those who had already been there, its lights twinkling in the inky darkness. Several round tables were scattered around and the thick oak bar had a light sheen of alcohol that had been spilled. In the background a jukebox was playing and pool balls could be heard clinking together.

Daniel Elkins sat hunched over his journal, writing furiously. He was older, his gray hair hanging limply about his face, which sported deep lines and grooves indicative of his age and the harshness of his life.

"Mr. Elkins?...Mr. Elkins?" He glanced up at the pretty blond bartender. "Would you like another?"

The words slowly filtered in and he nodded his head. "Yeah, thanks Beth." She smiled and walked over to the other side of the bar, towards another patron.

"I though they caught the Unabomber," he joked lightly.

"Yeah, poor Mr. Elkins lives all alone up in the canyon," Beth glanced back over her shoulder before turning to the man again. "Same seat every day, going through his papers, making his little notes. He's a nice old man. He's just a nut." She set his beer down in front of him before grabbing a bottle of bourbon. "Here you go," she said as she pours him a shot. He glanced up curiously just as Beth looked toward the door, seeing a group of men walk in behind an attractive brunette. Daniel considered them as they took a seat at a table on the other side of the bar. "What'll you have?" Beth asked as she dried her hands on a towel.

The woman turned. "Jack all around, leave the bottle."

"You hungry?"

She smiled as she answered. "We have dinner plans."

Beth went to the back wall of the bar and grabs a bottle of Jack Daniels, turning back to Daniel. "Can I get you something else Mr. Elkins?" His seat was empty and his drink untouched; she glanced toward the backdoor as it slammed shut.

The cold Colorado air nipped harshly at Daniel as he quickly shut and locked the door. He set his journal down on his desk, which was already overflowing with papers. His computer was half-buried and his bulletin board wasn't visible through all the drawings and markings that covered it. Sensing another presence in the room, he turned slowly.

The woman from the bar crept slowly out of the shadows. "It's been awhile. I've gotta say, you look old," she said, her eyes glinting silver.

"What do you want?" he asked harshly.

"What do you think?" she answered. He brought a hand around his back and flipped a knife at her, embedding it in her chest. "Damn." She pulled the knife out effortlessly. Daniel hurried towards his backroom as she followed. "You can do better than that." He locked the door and barricaded it with bookshelf. He turned to a section of the wall which hid a combination-lock safe.

"C'mon, c'mon," he said as he spun the dial. Once opened he pulled out a box as the door rattled and the bookshelf shook. Inside was a Colt Revolver and five bullets; he began loading the gun as the woman continued pounding on the door. Just as he got it loaded, two men fell from his skylights and slammed him backwards, forcing him to drop the weapon. They held him against a desk as the woman crashed the door open, letting the bookshelf fall to the ground. She walked over slowly and picked up the gun that Daniel dropped, examining it carefully.

"Nice gun," she says smiling. "Wouldn't do you much good, of course." She looked at the two men with her. "Boys, we're eating in tonight." He looked at her fearfully before his screams pierced the night air.

**~*~*~**

Several hundred miles away in a diner sat Dean Winchester as he read a newspaper while his brother Sam surfed the web on his laptop. Sighing, he folded his newspaper and looked over at his brother. "Alright, dude. Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska. What do you got?"

Without even glancing up, Sam said, "Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota. Here, there's a woman in Iowa fell ten thousand feet from an airplane and survived."

Dean considered it before saying, "That sounds more like _That's Incredible_ than _Twilight Zone_."

"Yeah," Sam said as he looked back down at his computer.

"Hey, you know, we could, uh, we could just keep it in the east. New York, upstate. We could stop by and see Sarah again, huh? She's a cool chick, man – smoking." He whistled before continuing. "You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?" The brothers had just finished a hunt of a haunted painting. Sam and the very attractive daughter of the auction house owner who was attemping to sell the painting had gotten along verywell and exchanged a heated goodbye, which left Dean smiling.

The younger man smiled. "Yeah, maybe, someday. But in the meantime, we got a lot of work to do, Dean and you know that."

Dean looked away. "Yeah, you're right. What else you got?"

"Uh, Manning, Colorado. A local man by the name of Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home."

"Elkins? I know that name," Dean commented as he tried to remember where he had heard the name.

"Doesn't ring a bell," Sam said. He continued as his brother rummaged for their father's journal. "It sounds like the police don't know what to think. At first, they said it was some sort of bear attack, and now, they found signs of robbery."

"Mm-mmm."Dean continued flipping through the pages until one page caught his eye. "Here, check it out." He handed the journal over to his brother and pointed at the contact information for a _D. Elkins._

"You think it's the same Elkins?" Sam asked.

Dean responded immediately. "It's a Colorado area code."

**~*~*~**

Over four thousand miles away, three teenagers were huddled in a dark depressing house, scattered about the musky library. Harry was pacing back and forth, wearing a hole in the already threadbare carpet while his friend Ron was lying on his back on the couch, throwing a quaffle in the air and catching it, and their mutual friend Hermione was pouring over an old book that had long ago lost its cover and title.

Slamming the book shut, she turned to her friend. "Are you sure there's nothing else your grandmother wrote about your uncle?"

Sighing, he flopped onto the couch beside Ron. "No, only what's in the journal. She didn't even tell her own husband, let alone her children. When she died, he wasn't even in Kansas anymore and it's not like he left her a forwarding address."

"Well, every spell I've found so far to find him requires more information than we've got."

"Let's take a break, we've been at this for months," Ron commented sitting up. It was true. When Harry first found out about John on his seventeenth birthday he had tried to research on his own but his friends quickly caught on that he was hiding something from them. Hermione was the first to figure out he was searching for someone and after offering to help he finally let them in on his secret. They were the only two besides him who knew of his uncle; Harry didn't want his family to be targeted by any Death Eaters that still hadn't been captured yet.

Ron surprisingly was the one who came up with the idea of searching muggle records for him and using the internet they found that John Winchester was married and had two children, both boys. His wife Mary had died in a house fire and that's when the trail went cold. He would pop up occasionally but he wasn't in any one place for long. Harry decided to try using magic to find him but even this was proving futile.

Harry nodded his head dejectedly, knowing his friend was right. They headed for the kitchen and started making lunch, sitting mostly in silence.

"Maybe they're blond," Ron started.

Both Harry and Hermione looked up thoughtfully. "Merlin, I hope not. Can you imagine more cousins like Dudley?" After finding out he had more cousins, Harry began to wonder about them, what they looked like, what they did, what they were like, anything. His friends started in on the game too.

"Well, we know Samuel's smart to get into Stanford, so he's obviously not at all like Dudley, sounds more like your mum," Hermione reasoned as she brought three egg sandwichs to the table. Ron grabbed a sandwich and took a bite that consisted of half of it.

"Yeah, but Dean didn't go to university and his grades weren't that good in school. He could be the Dudley," Ron countered, spewing egg and breadcrumbs across the table. Hermione rolled her eyes but didn't comment, having long since given up on Ron's eating habits; some things just can't be changed.

"But we still have to consider that John was a marine, maybe they're all military," Harry added sensing Hermione's discomfort. Catching her eye, he took a reasonable bite and smiled. "And since we couldn't find any records, maybe they're like special ops, or something."

They sat contemplating what it would be like for Harry's cousins to be in the SBS. He imagined them wearing black dive suits, with machetes attached to their legs and numerous attachments on their belts, scaling the side of a cliff on a dangerous mission to rescue a diplomat or to blow up an evil dictator. He could never see their faces in his daydreams.

Once when he told Hermione and Ron about his daydream of Samuel and Dean as lawyers after finding out Samuel was doing prelaw, Hermione burst into laughter. She said he watched too much Law and Order. He never told them about his daydreams after that; she'd probably say they sounded more like James Bond than his cousins.

"Maybe they're redheads," Ron began again swallowing the last of his sandwich and glanced up at his friends' identical smirks. "What?"

**~*~*~**

Later that evening, Sam and Dean arrived at Daniel's cabin in Colorado. Letting their flashlights precede them into the house, they easily entered the cabin after a few seconds of picking the lock. They began to look around taking in the papers on the walls and the clutter on the floor.

"Looks like the maid didn't come today," Dean commented from Daniel's office. Sam crouched down and noticed small granules on the carpet.

"Hey, there's salt over here, right inside the door."

"You mean, like, protection-against-demons salt, or, uh, 'Oops, I spilled the popcorn' salt?" He called back to his brother as he looked through a journal on the desk.

"It's clearly a ring. You think this guy, Elkins, was a player?" Sam called.

"Definitely." The brunette entered behind his brother and glanced over his shoulder at the journal in his hands.

"That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's."

"Yeah, except this dates back to the sixties," Dean commented. They moved on to the backroom and took in the overturned furniture and broken glass from the skylight.

"Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one," Sam said.

"Looks like he put a hell of a fight too," Dean added.

"Yeah." They edged closer to the desk taking care where they put their feet. Sam headed behind the desk, picking up items and looking at them for clues as to what might have happened here. Dean saw a box lying open on the floor and tipped it up with his foot, shining the flashlight into it. He considered it for a second, counting thirteen slots but no gun or bullets. To the side, he saw scratches in the floor and bent down for a closer look. "You got something?" Sam asked, glancing up from the papers in his hand at his brother's silence.

"I don't know," Dean said running his hand over the scratches. "Just some scratches in the floor."

Sam came around the side of the desk and shined the light on the floor. "Death throes maybe?"

"Yeah, maybe." Dean searched for something before grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil off the desk. Placing the paper over top the scratches, he shaded with the pencil before pulling up the paper. He looked at it for a second before handing it to his brother. "Or a message. Look familiar?"

Sam shined his light on the paper in his hand. "Three letters, six digits – the location and combination of a post office box."

"Just the way Dad does it," Dean said.

Breaking into the post office should not have been that easy. After locating the correct box and putting in the combination, Dean pulled out a single letter. His eyebrows shot up and he showed it to his brother who looked equally as shocked as seeing it.

"J.W. – You think? John Winchester?" Back in the car, Sam and Dean were studying the outside of the envelop. Dean held it as though it was something to be cherished, as though it held the secrets of his father.

"I don't know, should we open it?" Before either could respond, a loud knocking sounded against Dean's window. Jumping, he turned, sticking his hand with the letter, in his coat about to pull a gun. "Dad?"

He glanced at his younger brother as his father climbed into the backseat of the Impala. "Dad, what are you doing here, are you alright?" Sam asked worriedly.

John nodded. "Yeah. I'm okay. Look, I read the news about Daniel. I got here as fast as I could, I saw you two up at his place."

Sam shook his head, confused. "Why didn't you come in, Dad?"

John looked pointedly at his youngest son. "You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren't followed by anyone, or anything. Nice job of covering your tracks by the way."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, well, we learned from the best."

"Wait, you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?" Sam asked, incredulously. John nodded again.

"Yeah. He was...he was a good man. He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting."

"Well, you never mentioned him to us."

John looked down and sighed. "We had, uh, we had a kind of falling out. I haven't seen him in years." He indicated the letter in Dean's hands. "I should look at that." John opened the letter and started reading, "_If you're reading this, I'm already dead_...That son of a bitch."

Dean leaned forward, interested. "What is it?"

"He had it the whole time."

"Dad, what?" Sam asked.

"When you searched the place, did you see a gun? An antique – A Colt Revolver, did you see it?" He questioned them, quickly.

Dean tried to answer him just as quickly. "Uh, there was an old case but it was empty."

"They have it," John said resignedly.

"You mean, whatever killed Elkins?" Dean asked as John began to get out of the car.

"We've got to pick up the trail."

"Wait, you want us to come with you?" Sam asked his father through the open window.

John leaned forward. "If Elkins was telling the truth, we got to find this gun."

Sam tried again. "The gun, why?"

Frustrated, John answered sharply. "Because it's important that's why."

"Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet."

"They were what Daniel Elkins hunted best – vampires."

Dean turned to his dad, confused. "Vampires? I thought there was no such thing."

"You never mentioned them before, Dad," Sam added.

"I thought they were extinct. I thought Elkins and others had wiped them out." John sighed heavily. "I was wrong. Most vampire lore is crap. A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust—that part's true. They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late."

**~*~*~**

The crescent moon showed high in the night sky as Harry looked out at the silent London street. They had long since stopped for the day; Hermione and Ron had fallen asleep on the couch curled into each other. Harry had tried to continue but he was no closer to finding his uncle than when he had started. Staring out at the night sky, he began to wonder what he was doing right then, was he okay, was he happy, did he know he had a nephew who was desperately searching for him?

Harry turned away from the window and sat at the table, pulling out his mother's journal as he did so. Harry had shared everything with his friend but not this. This was his and his alone. He had been reading it for the past three months since his aunt had given it to him. Harry learned more about his mum in those months than he ever had in his life. He knew she liked broccoli but not peas; she preferred roses to lilies; her favorite subject was not charms but actually arithemancy; she wanted to be a ballerina when she grew up; her sister was her best friend and she hated that they fought.

Tonight, Harry read until his eyes became scratchy and he couldn't see anymore. Harry carefully stowed the journal in his backpack and shuffled towards the big armchair by the couch, clumping into it tiredly. It jarred the bookshelf slightly and a book fell with a loud thump.

Harry glanced toward it, trying to decide if it was worth the effort to return it to the shelf. He decided he should probably pick it up or he might never know where to return it to in the morning. Harry picked it up and started to put it away when he noticed a thin book had been shoved into the bigger book in his hand.

Pulling it out, he saw that it was a journal of some sort. He opened it to the first page and immediately realized it was a lot thicker than he had originally thought. _Orion Arcturus Black_, he read. It was Sirius' father's journal. Opening to a random page in the middle, he saw what appeared to be a list of activities on specific dates. As he read closer, Harry realized Orion was keeping tabs on his eldest son.

_15 October, 1987_

_~Prank was successful_

_~Did well on transfiguration exam_

_~Received detention for insulting S. Snape_

_~Exchanged words with Reggie_

_16 October, 1987_

_~Asked out M. Fellows_

_~Received satisfactory grade for potions essay_

_~Received detention for insulting L. Malfoy_

Confused as to how Orion was able to do this without his son or his wife finding out, Harry turned to the beginning of the journal, which was dated the day Sirius ran away from home.

_3 July, 1986_

_Sirius ran away today. Burgia thinks he'll return but I know better. He's gone for good. I shall never be his father again. I know he'll never let me back in his life but hopefully I can still see my son's life. I found a spell in the library tonight, just after everyone had gone to bed. I can find anyone in my blood family so long as they are still alive. It seemed this old house knew what I wanted and gave it to me. _

Harry stopped reading. He had found it. How to find his uncle and it had been here the whole time. Flipping a few pages, he saw that Orion had written down ingredients to create a potion that when painted on a mirror forms a window to watch that person. If one were to hold the mirror while apparating, they will apparate to that person. Earmarking the page, he placed the journal on the end table beside his chair and immediately fell into a restful sleep. He was finally going to be able to find his uncle.


	3. Part I: Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from the Supernatural episode "Dead Man's Blood". I got the transcripts from TwizTv. I also don't own the songs.

**AN:** Not really much to say, but I thought I'd clarify the timeline alterations as I'd gotten a few reviews bout it and I decided it'd just be smarter to put it here instead of individually responding. While Harry is seventeen, this is set after all seven books; the fifth and sixth book both take place during his fifth year and the seventh book during his sixth. All the little details that pertain specifically to those books, like apparation lessons and the protection spell at the Dursleys, are sort of ignored, perks of being an AU author. If anything crops up that deals with those details, I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. As always, thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited or alerted this story. Saving the best for last, my greatest appreciation goes to Kirallie for being an awesome beta and for updating her story!!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

The small cabin had the bare essentials, two beds, a table, a small countertop and a bathroom. That was all they needed. Currently only the beds and one of the chairs were being occupied by the Winchesters at the moment. Sam and Dean were asleep while their father watched over them and listened to a stolen police radio. It was just like when they were younger, except now their six foot frames took up the whole bed instead of half. John concentrated on the radio in his hand but every once in a while his gaze would stray to his sons. Sam had obviously grown since the foud years he'd been at Stanford; it was one thing seeing it from a distance as he Dean checked up on him, it was quite another to see it up close. John had noticed back in Chicago but now it hitting him full in the face, his baby boy was growing up. John wasn't so sure how he felt about that.

"_Unit 22, let me confirm. You're at mile marker forty-one, you need a workup._"

"_Copy that, possible two-oh-seven. We need forensics out here." _John started to rise from his seat, smacking his sons' legs as he did so.

"Sam, Dean. Let's go. Picked up a police call." They awoke with a start and began to get off the bed.

"What happened?" Sam asked groggily.

"A couple called 911. They found a body in the street. Cops got there, everyone was missing. It's the vampires," John said as he headed towards the door, throwing on his coat.

"How do you know?" Sam asked. His father turned back, his expression stormy. Just as he was realizing how much Sam had changed, John was also remembering the ways in which he hadn't.

"Just follow me, okay," John answered shortly, leaving the room. Sam followed quickly after him, determined to get some information out of the man.

"Vampires – gets funnier every time I hear it," Dean smiled as he exited behind his brother and father. He'd seen the tension between his family but was determined to let it play out, hoping for once they'd simply let it go. Dean knew it might be a little much but that was why he didn't lay too many foundations in hope.

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him," Sam said as they waited by the Impala on the side of the road while their dad spoke to the police. A half an hour of driving in the rain found them parked down the road from the accident sight, just beyond the attention of the police. As soon as they'd arrived, John had immediately told them to wait for him and taken off, not even waiting for their reply.

"Oh, don't tell me it's already starting," Dean muttered. Yep, hope was for suckers.

"What's starting?" Sam asked confused, as John hurried over.

"It was them, alright. Looks like they're heading west. We're gonna have to double back to get around that detour."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Sam, heatedly.

"Sam—" Dean began, frustrated. He knew this would happen as soon as the two of them were together for longer than a night. They were too much alike for there not to be tension.

Sam stopped him before he could even start, however. "I just want to know we're going in the right direction," he responded diplomatically.

"We are." Holding in his anger, Sam tried again, attempting to keep his voice even and not let the whine that was bubbling in his throat escape.

"How do you know?" he asked pointedly.

John rummaged around in his pocket; he pulled a small object out and handed it to Dean. "I found this."

Turning it over in his hand, Dean inspected it. "It's a vampire fang."

Taking it back, John said, "No fangs – teeth. The second set descends when they attack." He turned to his youngest son. "Any more questions?" Sam stayed silent and glanced away. "Alright, let's get out of here, we're losing daylight." John began to walk to his truck when he turned to look at the Impala. "Hey Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were gonna ruin it." Sam smirked at his older brother as he got into the driver's seat; Dean scowled both at Sam's comment and having to ride shotgun.

**~*~*~**

The next morning, Harry sat at the table in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, jotting down the ingredients he would need for the potion. He felt rejuvenated as soon as he woke up and immediately started working. The anticipation, the excitement, the completion, the knowledge that he finally had the answer he'd been searching for was now in his hands filled him with a giddy restlessness. Harry was almost afraid to let the book out of his sight for fear it might vanish.

Hermione and Ron entered the room, confused to see Harry writing excitedly from a small book. The only other time they'd seen him this absorbed in a book was when he'd been studying the Prince's potions book, something that hadn't exaclty ended well. Ron sat at the table next to his friend while Hermione went about making tea for the three of them. "Umm, Harry, what are you doing?"

He looked up at his friends confused, before glancing at the clock and rubbing his eyes. Four hours, that was how long he'd up. Unable to sleep, he finally wandered into the kitchen around five and began pouring over the diary. "I found this book last night after you two went to sleep. It's Sirius' dad's journal. Apparently after Sirius ran away his father wanted to keep tabs on him, so he found this potion." Hermione pulled the journal towards her and started studying the potion as Harry continued. "When it's complete, you simply paint it on a mirror and it acts like a window into their lives. If you apparate with the mirror, you can apparate right to them. It's exactly what we're looking for, isn't that great?" He finished excitedly.

Ron nodded eagerly, taking the book from Hermione and looking over the potion. However she was frowning at them both. "I don't know Harry; this sounds like dark magic and a huge invasion of privacy. Plus some of these ingredients aren't exactly legal." The mood suddenly turned frosty as Hermione's words sunk in. Harry took a breath before looking his best friend in the eye.

"Look, Hermione. In second year when we needed to find out who the heir of Slytherin was, you were the one who suggested using polyjuice potion, which at the time broke all the rules and invaded the privacy of Slytherins. Ron and I let you make that potion, now let me make this."

Harry and Hermione stared at one another while Ron looked away. Whatever they were silently debating with each other didn't include him as they both knew whose side he'd take. They all learned long ago the value of a silent conversation. It was one of the things people were envious of yet annoyed with about their friendship. Finally Hermione nodded. "You're right, I'm sorry. I'll help you but we're going to have to be careful. I wasn't exaggerating when I said that some of these ingredients aren't legal."

"So you know where we can get them and how to make it?" Ron asked, pleased the crisis had been diverted and he hadn't been made to choose.

She nodded. "Most of them we had in our basic kits for class but there are a few we're going to have to get in Knockturn Alley, that's going to be the only place that will sell them."

"Alright, let's get to work."

"Are you sure this is the right shop?" Ron asked, picking up a jar full of pickled pig intestines. The three of them had headed out immediately after finishing breakfast. Hermione suggested they use notice-me-not charms so as not to arouse suspicion on the dark arts street; a hero, a muggle-born and a bloodtraitor would not be treated kindly on this street, especially this combination of the three. She simply looked at her boyfriend and he nodded. "Of course you're sure," he muttered, placing the jar back on the shelf. The dark apothecary they were inside was filled with rather dubious ingredients that they wouldn't be able to find anywhere else. After the Battle of Hogwarts and the end of the Second Blood War, most of Knockturn Alley had been raided and shut down. However, black markets can never truly be destroyed and the few shops that had escaped the purges had quietly grown in the last few months, this being one of them.

"What do you kids want?" The shop keeper asked, coming up behind the three. His eyes kept shifting away from them but enough of his customers used the charm that he knew they were there, but not who they were.

"We're looking for, uh," Hermione looked down at the list in her hands, "powdered eggshells of a Welsh Green." The old man frowned sharply before heading to the back of his shop. They followed behind him to the counter; a few minutes later he returned and slammed down a small vial of a silver powder.

"That'll be one hundred and fifty galleons."

"One hundred," Harry countered harshly. Ron and Hermione let him deal with the negoations as it was his money that was being spent.

He glared harshly at them. "One twenty-five."

"One hundred or no sale."

"Fine, take it." He shoved the vial across the counter and grabbed the money that Harry placed on it. "And don't come back."

"Don't worry," Ron muttered as they left. The powdered eggshells were the last ingredient that they needed for the potion. As they gathered more of the ingredients, the bubbly feeling grew, filling Harry until he felt he'd either burst from it or float away. It was finally coming together; he was getting closer to finding his uncle and meeting his family.

**~*~*~**

"Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten. Smaller packs are sent out to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest, where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks." Dean read as he rode with Sam down the highway following their father. "I wonder if that's what happened to that 911 couple," he said, looking up as he thought aloud.

Sam was staring straight ahead, his body tense as the words washed over him. "That's probably what Dad's thinking. Of course, it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks," Sam added.

Dean looked over at his younger brother. "So it _is_ starting."

"What?" Sam asked before returning his eyes to the road. Dean continued watching him. He'd watched his younger brother grow up; Dean knew when Sam was trying to avoid the issue. He decided he was going to tackle it head-on for once.

"Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year. Now, we're not with him for more than a couple of hours and there's static already?"

Scoffing, the brunette responded. "No, look, I'm happy he's okay, alright? And I'm happy we're working together again."

"Good."

There was a beat of silence before Sam started talking again, frustrated. "It's just the way he treats us like we're children."

Dean remained looking through the material on vampires. None of this was stuff he hadn't heard before. "Oh god." Sam continued on like he hadn't noticed he'd spoken. He was really building up energy for a long winded rant that Dean was not looking forward to listening to. He hated when his brother and father fought but he hated it more when he had to listen to either of them seethe about the other to him.

"He barks orders at us, Dean, he expects us to follow him without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal."

"He does what he does for a reason," his older brother interjected harshly. And this was why he hated listening ot it. He was always defending one to the other but they never listened to him.

"What reason?!"

"Our job! There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, alright? It's just the way the old man runs—" Dean burst out before calmping down on that line prematurely. Something about this topic made both brothers angry, one at their father, the other at the whole situation.

"Yeah, well maybe that worked when we were kids but not anymore, alright? Not after everything you and I have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line and letting him run the whole show?" he asked incredulously, like the very idea was a joke.

Dean considered it for a moment before answering his brother, "If that's what it takes." Several hours later, their father called and Dean picked up. "_Yeah, Dad. Alright, got it._" He hung up and said, "Pull off at the next exit."

"Why?" Sam asked sharply.

"Cause Dad thinks we've got the vampires' trail," he answered, looking at the map and then again at the road. Sam glared ahead.

"How?"

"I don't know, he didn't say." Without warning, Sam slammed on the gas and the Impala sped forward. He quickly overtook the truck and spinning the wheel sharply to the left, he hit the brakes, forcing John's truck to immediately stop. As soon as the car was stopped, Sam jumped out. "Oh, crap. Here we go. Sam!" Dean scrambled from the car after his brother.

John stormed over to his youngest son, the headlights of the truck throwing him in sharp relief. "What the hell was that?" he asked softly, dangerously.

"We need to talk," Sam replied just as softly.

"About what?" John was standing only a few inches from Sam's face but the younger man had a good several inches on him in height.

"About everything! Where are we going Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?"

Dean tried to interject. "Sammy, c'mon we can Q and A after we kill all the vampires."

Not looking away, John responded. "Your brother's right, we don't have time for this."

Frustrated, Sam's voice started rising as he spoke to his father. "Last we saw you, you said it was too dangerous to be together. Now, out of the blue, you need our help. Obviously something big is going down, and we wanna know what!"

Unlike his son, John kept his voice even. "Get back in the car."

Shaking his head, Sam responded, "No."

Taking a step closer, John repeated. "I said get back in the damn car."

"Yeah, and I said no," he said, following suit.

Dean finally having enough of them arguing, broke in. "All right, you made your point, tough guy. Look, we're all tired. We can talk about this later. Sammy, I mean it, come on." He pushed his younger brother back towards the car and started around to his door.

"This is why I left in the first place," the younger man muttered as he began walking away.

"What'd you say?" John asked softly taking a step forward, daring his son to repeat himself.

He turned back. "You heard me."

John started towards his son and raised his voice for the first time since the argument began. "Yeah, you left. Your brother and me, we needed you. _You_ walked away, Sam." He grabbed onto Sam's shirt. Emotions John had tried to repress for the last four years bubbled to the surface, the anger, the fear, the abandonment. "_You_ walked away."

"Stop it, both of you," Dean tried but neither of them was listening anymore.

"You were the one who said 'Don't come back', Dad. You're the one who closed that door, not me! You were just pissed off you couldn't control me anymore!" Sam finished shouting, holding onto his father's hands, not sure if he was trying to push him away or bring him closer.

Dean stepped in now, physically attempting to separate them. "All right, stop it, stop it—stop it, that's enough!" Breaking them apart, he turned to his father who looked like he wanted to reprimand his son for his blatant overstepping. "That means you too." Sam turned abruptly and got in his door without another word. John followed quickly after, both slamming their doors shut. Dean was left standing outside, just like old times. "Terrific."

**~*~*~**

Back at the house, Harry and Ron were watching Hermione as she carefully measured out the ingredients for the potion. Harry's standard pewter cauldron was set up on the kitchen table with Orion's journal spread out before them. Checking it, she slowly added the dandelion roots, one at a time then stepped back, wiping her hands together.

"And now we wait," she muttered. Silence descended upon them as they watched the pale blue potion bubble gently. Hermione turned to Harry suddenly. "Are you sure about this? Cause as soon as we're done, there's no turning back."

Harry stared at the mixture for a second before slowly nodding. "Yeah, I'm sure." He looked at both his best friends seriously. "When I was at my relatives, I prayed everyday for someone to come and take me away. At first it was my parents, I'd pretend they weren't dead and they'd ride in and we'd be a family again. Then as I got older, it was anyone, any relative, just so I wouldn't have to live with the Dursley's. At Hogwarts I finally had a family, they weren't perfect and they weren't blood-related, but they were my family. Even then I never stopped hoping for a miracle, that I really would have family out there. I know it was stupid but...I couldn't stop." He stopped and ran his hands through his already messy hair, reminiscent of his father's nervous habit. Harry got up from the table and began to pace around the kitchen, no longer looking at his friends. "And now I have found someone, and they're real and they're alive, and I can't just walk away. I've waited for this my whole life and...I..."

"It's okay, mate, we get it," Ron said, stopping him from continuing. Harry glanced over at him and smiled. Even when they were fighting, they always understood each other. Both of them knew how important family was to him; they just didn't want him to get hurt by having more Dursley's for relatives.

Fifteen minutes later, the potion had simmered into an almost clear mixture; it had the barest blue sheen to it. Hermione held the book in front of her and read. "Now all that's left is adding a drop of your blood and painting it onto a mirror."

Harry picked up Hermione's cutting knife. He was just about to run the blade along his palm when a cough sounded behind him. Spinning around quickly, with the knife still in hand, he took in the three figures at the door. All of them had flaming red hair, brown eyes and expressions of mock seriousness on their faces.

"And just what are you three up to?" George asked, glancing at his brother and his friends. Harry merely folded his arms over his chest, mindful of the blade.

"Why I believe, dear brother, they're making a dubious looking potion in the middle of old Padfoot's kitchen," Fred answered.

"It seems you're correct but whatever for, I might ask," their younger sister chimed in.

"And what are you doing out of school?" Harry asked, directing the question at his girlfriend, smirking.

"It's Saturday," Ginny bounded over quickly and kissed him. Pulling back she looked into his eyes, "So seriously, what are you doing?"

The trio glanced at each other before Harry sighed. "You three better sit down." He proceeded to explain, with Ron and Hermione's help, about his uncle, trying to find him and brewing the potion which should take him right to him. When he was done they were shocked by the news.

Ginny was the first to recover. "How could you not tell me?" she asked hurt.

"I didn't tell anyone," Harry responded quickly. "They only found out cause I'm rubbish at research. I was planning on telling you guys after I had met them."

"You really think this'll work?" George asked. Harry looked back at Ron and Hermione.

"It should, I've looked over everything and it seems sound," she said.

Fred and George both said at the same time, "We're in."

"Anything you need—"

"Anything at all--"

"Questionable potion ingrediants--"

"Brilliant pranks--"

"Threatening older brothers of best mates'--"

"Just say the word—"

"And it's yours."

Harry held up his hand to stem the flow. "We're set right now but..." he paused to consider something. "You guys could help me by keeping this a secret. You five are the only ones who know about my uncle and I want to keep it that way."

They all nodded their heads in agreement. Harry took a deep breath and ran the blade across his hand, causing a thin red line to form. After allowing a couple of drops of blood to fall into the potion, Hermione quickly healed his hand. The red dissolved immediately leaving the potion now completely clear, making it appear like a cauldron of water sitting innocently on the table.

Harry picked up a small paint brush and dipped it into the potion. He hesitated for a second over the mirror. "Here goes."


	4. Part I: Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from the Supernatural episode "Dead Man's Blood". I got the transcripts from TwizTv. I also don't own the songs.

**AN:** Okay, so this chapter is exaclty the reason authors love reviewers. I had this written all nice and neat, then I recieved a bunch of reviews anticipating the overt paranoia that is the Winchesters. When I reread what I had written, I realized it was too nice and neat and not at all Winchester-ly. So I reworked it until it better fit the mold. On that note, thank you to everyone who reviewed, making me see the error of my ways! Also, last week I commented on the timeline with regard to the organization of HP canon but I decided this week to let you know the timeframe I created with regards to their ages and when everyone was born. Only John's birthday was altered in Supernatural, which I changed to 1959. HP verse was simply pushed up nine years, so Petunia was born in 1967, Lily in 1969 and Harry in 1989. So anyone good with numbers realizes that the Evans family has their children young with Grace having her firstborn at age 19, John and Lily at age 20 and Petunia at age 22. Anyway the boys' ages currently in the story are Dean - 27, Sam - 23 and Harry - 17. Hopefully I didn't just confuse everyone further! Lastly, huge shout out goes to my awesome beta Kirallie who was kind enough to beta this for me last minute and get it back to me quickly so I could get it out on time. You are my hero!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

The next day, the three Winchesters watched from behind several trees as a faded rusted car drove up to an old barn. A man came out from the barn, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sunlight. Another man got out of the vehicle muttering, "I know what time is it."

"Get in." He continued watching the surrounding area as the younger man entered before shutting the door behind him.

"Son of a bitch," Dean commented after the by-play had ended. "So they're really not afraid of the sun."

"Nah, direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn." John turned to his sons. "The only way to kill them is by beheading. And yeah, they sleep during the day. It doesn't mean they won't wake up."

"So I guess walking right in's not our best option."

"Actually, that's the plan."

Later, Dean opened up the trunk of the Impala and pulled out a false bottom, using an unused shotgun to prop it up. John's weapon's case electronically slid out and opened up. In both cases, each weapon was carefully and meticulously categorized for easy reach and access. Dean pulled out a machete, handing it to his father. "Dad, I've got an extra machete if you need one."

John pulled a foot-and-a-half gleaming machete from its sheath. "Think I'm okay, thanks."

Dean takes in his father's trunk while Sam pulls on a holster for his knife. "Wow."

Sighing, John considered the case carefully before talking. "So...you boys really want to know about this colt?" They looked up surprised.

"Yes, sir," Sam answered after sharing a look with Dean.

They walked over to John as he began. "It's just a story—a legend, really. Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter. Back in 1835, when Halley's Comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun—a special gun. He made it for a hunter—a man like us, only on horseback. The story goes he made thirteen bullets. This hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. Somehow, Daniel got his hands on it. They say—they say this gun can kill anything."

"Kill anything, like, supernatural anything?" asked Dean, shocked.

"Like the Demon?" Sam said in disbelief.

"Yeah, the Demon. Ever since I picked up its trail, I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. Find the gun...we may have it." They shared determined looks before heading to the barn.

Finding a way in was the easy part, not waking a nest of vampires and getting caught was the hard bit. They entered through a window used for bringing in bales of hay and quickly descended after shutting out the harsh daylight. The vampires were sleeping peacefully in hammocks spread out around the main floor of the barn; the gentle rocking causing the beams to creak.

Dean and Sam quietly made their way through the vampires, carefully watching where they stepped and keeping a grip on their knives. Attempting to step around a hammock, Dean knocked over some bottles, causing him to bump into a vampire. Luckily, he slept on, only rolling over in his sleep.

"Dean," Sam said as he crouched next to a woman who was tied to a post. Blood was splattered on her white button-down, her head lolling to the side. A noise sounded to their right and Dean noticed a cage.

"There's more," he made his way over and looked in through the bars. Several people were bound and sleeping within the cage. Sam frantically tried to undo the woman's bonds while Dean looked around for something to open the cage with after noticing it was padlocked shut. Finding a hook, he used it as a crowbar to break open part of it.

Sam and Dean stopped moving as it sounded, glancing around the room for signs of movement. The vampires shifted in their sleep but didn't wake. The woman Sam was untying began to stir.

"Hey," he said, trying to gain her attention. She opened her eyes slowly and looked at him confused. "Hey, hey, shh, I'm here to help you."

Without warning the woman let out a horrible scream, waking the vampires, and Sam backed away quickly. He heard a shout from the back, "Boys, run." They turned and started for the back door, closely followed by the newly awakened creatures.

"Dad!" They burst out into the sunlight and made for the woods. Once they reached the cars, the two brothers stopped and looked back. "Dad?!...Dad!"

John came running through the trees. Dean and Sam turned towards their car before John spoke. "They won't follow; they'll wait until tonight. Once a vampire gets your scent it's for life."

Dean waved his arm in the air, frustration pervading his stance. "What the hell do we do now?"

"You gotta find the nearest funeral home, that's what." The brothers exchanged glances, confused.

**~*~*~**

Back at the cabin, Sam paced in front of his father, who was sitting at the table writing in his journal. "It shouldn't be taking this long, I should go help."

John looked up. "Dean's got it." Sam glanced back then around the cabin trying to find something to do. "Sammy..."

Turning to face his father, he said, "Yeah?"

"I don't think I ever told you this but...the day you were born, you know what I did?"

Confused, he responded, "No."

"I put a hundred bucks into a savings account for you; I did the same thing for your brother." He paused, smiling. "It was a college fund. And every month I'd put in another hundred dollars, until...Anyway, my point is, Sam, that this is never the life I wanted for you."

"Then why'd you get so mad when I left?"

"You gotta understand something... After your mother passed, all I saw was evil, everywhere. And all I cared about was keeping you boys alive. I wanted you prepared—ready. So, somewhere along the line, I, uh….I stopped being your father. And I—I became your drill sergeant." Sam took a seat across the table from his father. "So, when you said that you wanted to go away to school, all I could think about—my only thought was that you were gonna be alone….vulnerable. Sammy, it just—it never occurred to me what you wanted. I just couldn't accept the fact that you and me….we're just different." Sam laughed slightly with tears in his eyes; he looked down into his lap. "What?"

"We're not different, not anymore. With what happened to Mom and Jess...Hell, we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone."

John smiled and nodded. "I guess you're right, son."

"Hey Dad, whatever happened to that college fund?"

"Spent it on ammo." The two of them burst into laughter and turned when the door opened. Dean walked in.

"Whoa, man, some heavy security to protect a bunch of dead guys." He looked back and forth between his brother and his father.

"You get it?" John asked. Dean took a brown paper bag out of his pocket and pulled out a large jar of dark red blood. He handed it to his father. John smiled and placed it on the table. "You know what to do." Before Sam could take the jar, there was a knock at the door; they stilled. Dean carefully made his way over to the window and peered out. "Are you sure you weren't followed?"

"Positive. It's some kid," he looked back at his father, confused. John got up from the table when there was another knock, this time more insistent. He pulled the door open and in front of him was a teenager with dark black hair and glasses, holding a worn out backpack in one hand while the other was shoved in his pocket.

"Can I help you son?" he asked gruffly. The boy stared at him for a second before realizing he was being spoken to.

"Uh, yes sir, are you, uh, are you John Winchester?" He glanced around nervously. His British accent startled John for a second before he answered.

"Yeah."

"Oh, good. That's good." Seeming to remember his manners, the kid shoved his hand out. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter." John continued watching the boy and when it became obvious he wasn't going to shake his hand, the boy dropped it. "Right, you probably want to know why I'm here—"

"That'd probably be a good place to start."

"Right, well, I'm your nephew," he blurted out quickly as though if he said it faster, it would be better.

"You're my what?" John asked. The skepticism was practically dripping from his lips. The boys watched as their father stared down the younger boy, barely believing he'd had the balls to deliver such a bald-faced lie to a man like John Winchester.

Harry took a breath before continuing. "Your nephew, sir. You see, um...could I step inside, please?" The older man looked him over for a moment before holding the door open wider and stepping aside. Harry walked in cautiously and looked around, taking in the two brothers standing off to the side. All three Winchesters released a collective breath when he passed over the salt without hesitation but he still wasn't out of the woods yet.

"Care to explain?" John said harshly, coming up behind him. Instead of jumping, the boy turned and took a step back, keeping everyone within his eyesight. Dean exchanged a glance with his father who nodded slightly to show he'd seen. Whoever the boy was, someone had at least taught him to cover his flank and keep any unknowns in his sights.

"The thing is, your mum isn't actually your mum; she's your adoptive mum. Your real mum's name is Grace Evans." Harry explained everything he had learned from his grandmother's journal. The three Winchesters sat in silence, taking in everything but never saying a word. When he was done, Harry handed John the journal from his bag, relinquishing it almost hesitantly and waited for them to speak. Dean and Sam looked over at their father who was staring at the book in his hands. John turned and headed for the door, pulling something from his pocket as he did so, slamming the door behind him.

The brothers caught each other's eyes and a silent conversation began to take place as they argued about how to deal with the situation. Dean was all for interrogating the kid, throwing everything they had at him until he cracked and told them why he was here and who sent him while Sam wanted to play it out a little longer, see how far he'd take it; there was always the chance he was telling the truth and freaking out an innocent boy was not high on his list of things to do today. The conversation ended with Dean leaning back against the headboard, letting Sam take the reins on this one. Harry had watched it all through his bangs, carefully noting every nuance and subtle shift without appearing to do so.

Clearing his throat, Sam was the first to speak. "Uh, I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."

"Oh, you go by Sam?" Harry asked, excitedly. He hadn't taken a seat and the brothers hadn't offered him one, so Harry remained standing awkwardly in the middle of the cabin, his bag hanging limply from his shoulder. His eyes had lit up when Sam had started speaking to him.

"Yeah," Sam responded slowly, almost making it a question as his eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

"Right, of course you would cause that's your name." THe younger boy muttered, a blush gracing his features before Harry shifted his eyes quickly to looking around the cabin, taking everything in but every so often he would glance back at them.

"How did you find us?" Dean asked harshly. He almost smirked in satisfaction when Harry startled at his abrupt entry into the conversation. "We're kinda on a road trip right now."

Harry's eyes grew large and he shifted nervously, clutching his bag tighter until his knuckles were nearly white from the effort. "Oh! Um, my friend Hermione, she's a whiz with computers, she tracked your credit card statements."

Sam looked at him skeptically. "You do realize that's illegal."

Fear and concern began to settle in his green orbs as his mouth hung open in shock. "Is it? I didn't know, I told her I wanted to find my family and she did the rest. I can't believe she could go to jail because of me!" Harry was quickly becoming distressed so Dean decided to step in. Couldn't allow the kid to hyperventilate until they knew what was going on. Neither party brought up the obvious fact that they knew he was lying as it would create even more problems, such as admitting their credit cards are fake and therefore couldn't be tracked to find them; Dean had to hand it to him though, the kid was good, didn't even break character. In the end though, they'd get him; no monster yet had pulled one over on the Winchesters.

"It's alright, kid. You obviously didn't know." Once again, they sat in silence until John came storming back into the cabin, shoving his phone into his coat pocket. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. He threw the journal down on the table where Harry eyed it, obviously upset at its mistreatment. He started towards it when John spoke.

"Look kid, we're uh, we're kinda in the middle of something right now...Does anyone know you're here, like your parents?"

"Yeah, of course," Harry answered incredulously, scoffing slightly at the implication. "You think I'd fly across the Atlantic without telling anyone. They know."

"Good, good. You, uh got somewhere to stay?" John asked. Harry looked away and toed the ground. Just as he opened his mouth, John sighed. "You can stay with us." He held up his hand when Sam and Dean started to protest. "Boys, why don't you take your cousin to that diner down the road and I'll meet you there." John shared a meaningful look with Dean who nodded before grabbing his younger brother and nodding at Harry.

The younger boy followed them out of the cabin towards two cars parked nearby. The cool October wind bit into his coat and he pulled it more tightly around his body, shivering slightly. The brothers noticed but neither commented, aside from turning up the heat once they entered the black Impala.

Harry glanced appreciatively around the interior. While he knew next to nothing about cars, he knew he was sitting in a rather impressive one. He didn't quite know what to say, now that he had finally met them. Should he ask them about their road trip, or bring up jobs? He was at a complete loss. Harry figured once he arrived they would immediately know him and welcome him with open arms, but his dream was childish and his plan not as well thought-out as he imagined it was.

"So, you're English, huh?" Sam asked turning in his seat as they pulled out of the parking lot. Harry considered his features, taking in his shaggy brown hair and piercing brown eyes, trying desperately to memorize them in case this all turned out to be a dream.

Shaking his head to focus, he replied, "Oh, yeah. From Surrey, it's in Southern England. But, uh, I attended school in Scotland and spent most summers with my friends in Ottery St. Catchpole." Harry shut his mouth quickly, afraid he may have said too much too soon. Should he tell them more, let them say something, what?

"Oh, that's cool," Sam said, smiling with his large doe eyes. The younger brother had always been better at getting people to open up, make them feel at ease and thus tell them whatever the brothers wanted to hear. "We're from Kansas, but I guess you already know that, huh?" Harry sat confused for a moment, before remembering his cover story about Hermione's hacking skills.

"Oh, yeah," he blushed deeply for effect. "I'll have to, uh, talk to her about that..."

"Don't worry about it, kid," Dean added, glancing in the rearview mirror, noticing how he tensed slightly at the moniker. "We've all done things we're not supposed to do. Right, Sammy?" While he appeared settled and teasing, Sam could see how tense he was about the entire situation. Neither were too sure this wasn't some elaborate scheme of the demon's but Dean trusted his father's judgment and if that meant playing along for now, that's what he'd do.

Sam scowled at his brother. "Right." He turned back to Harry. "So, Scotland...?"

Harry sighed before launching into a watered-down version of Hogwarts, omitting things such as moving staircases, vanishing cabinets, and the resident ghosts. He still wasn't sure exactly how or when he was going to let them in on his little secret. Harry was afraid of them treating him as the Dursley's had done; he didn't know if he could deal with being ignored again. But he had to tell them something, what if they were attacked, they should at least know it was because of him.

**~*~*~**

The three boys made small talk as they drove the ten minutes to the local diner. It was one of those places that was built in the fifties and hadn't aged since then. The counter was red linoleum with red vinyl stools and black and white checked floor. After being shown to their table, Dean indicated the bathroom. "Why don't you two go get washed up while I wait for Dad?" Sam nodded before heading towards the back with a reluctant Harry in tow. As soon as they were out of sight, Dean quickly grabbed one of the glasses on the table, dumping its contents into a nearby plant and pouring holy water from a flask he kept in the front console for emergencies. The silver cutlery had been a bit trickier to sneak in but as he laid it out neatly at the seat he'd designated as Harry's, he knew it would be worth it. Dean relaxed in his seat just as the two younger boys were coming back. Sam tilted his head to the right and Dean nodded. The youngest Winchester smiled as he let Harry slide into the booth before him. Anticipating the warmth from lack of personal space, the younger boy pushed the sleeves of his jacket up. While most people noticed his scars, few lacked the social graces to comment on them. Dean wasn't most people.

"What the hell?" Dean grabbed Harry's left arm and bringing it into the light. Running along his forearm was a thin jagged white scar. Flinching under their scrutiny, Harry jerked his arm back, quickly pulling his sleeves down, even going so far as to cover his hands. He wouldn't look them in the eye but instead peered out the window, praying they wouldn't bring it up. When Dean opened his mouth, Sam kicked him under the table and glared at him harshly before turning to his menu. Dean wasn't sure how he felt about Harry's scars. If he turned out to be telling the truth, he had a hell of a lot of explaining to do, starting with who made those scars so Dean could go kick his ass. If not, then it only proved that whoever he was the boy could be hurt by something and Dean was determined to figure out what. John arrived a few minutes later to the awkward silence.

"Nice to see you boys getting along," he commented lightly. He glanced closer at the three when Dean wouldn't look him in the eye, Sam continued to glare and Harry blushed lightly. He sighed, figuring Dean had said something to offend the younger boy. Tact wasn't something that had penetrated his son's thick skull, even on a hunt. "Don't pay any attention to him; he's all talk."

Harry looked confused before understanding flooded his features. He nodded slowly before looking down at his menu. The waitress, a rather thin woman in her sixties with blue tinted hair and enough make up for ten people, came to take their orders.

"Well, well, well. It's so nice to see a father out with his sons! And such handsome ones too!" The atmosphere continued to thicken and gained a new level of awkward.

John smiled slightly, "We'll just take some coffee and, uhh..." He trailed off, not sure what Harry wanted.

"Nothing for me thanks," Harry said, taking a sip of the water before him. Another knot of tension released itself as nothing happened. Since both the salt and the holy water hadn't affected him, it was unlikely Harry was possessed but there were still many other things he could be. He still hadn't touched the silverware. Dean had been eyeing his movements carefully but he didn't seem to be skirting around them, just had his hands clasped together not touching anything.

Harry glanced up, hoping she wouldn't comment on his accent. No such luck.

"Ohh! You're British huh? I've always wanted to visit but I've heard how rainy it is and well, that just doesn't work well with my old joints. They always stiffen just before a storm, it's how I know one's coming, never been wrong yet." As she took a breath to continue, John quickly intercepted her.

"I think we're all ready to order, right boys?" They all nodded earnestly and the process went smoothly until once again the woman commented on Harry calling french fries 'chips' and launching into a speech on the difference between the two dialects. Eventually she left to place their orders and silence descended upon them. John cleared his throat. "So, uh, I spoke to my father's oldest friend and he confirms what you told me. I, uh, never knew..." Sam and Dean finally understood where their father's guarded acceptance stemmed from. The boy's story had checked out and now there was the very real possibility he was their cousin.

Harry looked at him with understanding shining in his green eyes; he'd never known his mother either. "She didn't want to take you from your family. At least that's what she said in her journal."

"So, you never actually met her?" Sam asked.

"No, unfortunately she died before I was born. Both her and my grandfather."

"Right, so I have two half sisters, correct?" He asked hesitantly, like he was almost afraid of the answer. John didn't know how to act around the younger boy, what to say that would let him know if anything was a lie without going into hunter-mode and assuming everything was a lie. So far he'd been treading softly, carefully cataloguing everything the boy said or did but his gut, the thing that had saved him and his boys from close-calls, it was telling him Harry was genuine. And that scared the shit out of him.

Harry glanced away for half a second, before looking into the older man's eyes. "Yes, Lily and Petunia. Aunt Petunia's older by two years; Mum's ten years, I believe, younger than you."

He nodded. "Perhaps, when our road trip is over, I'll visit them." The bated request hung in the air. John waited to see how he responded but Harry merely took a sip of his water, straightening his silverware absently before nodding. Guess they could cross shape-shifter, werewolf and vampire off the ever-dwindling list of possible suspects.

"Does your family know exactly why you're here?" Dean asked suddenly, looking at Harry closely.

The younger boy paused before responding. "Not _exactly_, no, but I didn't think it my place to tell them."

Dean opened his mouth to continue but Wanda, their waiter arrived just then with their food and each turned over the new information while eating quietly. While they were all consumed with their own thoughts and food, all the Winchesters noticed immediately that Harry didn't really eat his food. He mostly pushed the fries around on his plate, took a few bites of his sandwich before peeling off the tomato and lettuce and taking a few more. In the end, he'd barely eaten half his meal and drank maybe three quarters of his water. This time however, Dean kept his mouth shut and shared a glance with his father and brother.

When it came time to pay the bill, they received another shock. Harry tried to pay for his portion. Sam practically had to take his wallet away to keep him from taking out any money. "But, you barely know me, I have to—"

"Look, kid...er Harry, it's no big deal," Dean said, amending the name remembering his flinch from before.

The drive back was uneventful and when they arrived back at the cabin, the atmosphere once again thickened. The Winchesters knew they had to raid the vampires' nest tonight but didn't want to alarm Harry with their disappearance or their weapons. Just before John entered the cabin, he pulled Harry aside and spoke softly. "We, uh planned to do something tonight and uh..." He stumbled over how to explain to him that they were leaving for the night and he couldn't come.

The youth's eyes got bigger and he gasped. "Of course! I understand! I mean you don't even know me, I, uh...I'll just, um, stay in and catch up on some reading." John smiled, glad he'd caught on quickly. He knew Harry was probably lying through his teeth but he'd accept the lie if it meant the boy stayed exactly where they wanted him.

"Great," John said, entering as Dean and Sam were pulling their coats on over their numerous weapons. They didn't want Harry too suspicious of them. "You boys ready?"

"Yes, sir," they replied in unison and headed for the door. John again turned to Harry and looked him in the eyes. They couldn't take any chances.

"Now, when we leave, lock the door behind us; don't let anyone in unless it's us and we call you by name; don't open any windows; if anything happens, here's my cell – you got a phone? Well, there's one in the cabin – call if you need anything, alright? Anything!" Harry was a bit taken aback by the directions but schooled his features into stoic acceptance.

He smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

John nodded. "I'm sure you will, but just in case..." He hesitated a minute before shoving the slip of paper with one of his cell numbers on it and heading for the door. "Remember, not a soul."

Once the door was shut behind them, Harry locked it, taking particular care to be as noisy as possible, knowing his uncle was right outside, listening. After the cars had driven off, he slumped on the bed, sighing heavily, wondering just what he'd gotten himself into.

**~*~*~**

On the way to their separate cars, Sam leaned towards his father and gave him a look before nodding back towards the cabin. Dean watched with an avid expression, as though he wanted to know the answer but didn't want to ask the question. "Those wards aren't just for keeping stuff out, you know..."

Realization dawned on both young men's features as Dean and Sam caught each other's eyes. Their father really was the best. That boy had better have been on the up-and-up or he was in for one hell of a surprise if he ever tried to leave.


	5. Part I: Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Dead Man's Blood". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Sorry for the longer than normal wait. Hopefully this chapter meets with your approval! Thanks for all the reviews and to everyone who favorited or alerted this story; it leaves me with warm and fuzzies! Big thanks to Kirallie, this chapter is for you chica!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

The silence surrounded him completely, blocking out anything that might try to impede. Dean had the hood up of the truck, glancing carefully over the interior. "Car trouble?" Spinning, he saw a woman as she sauntered out of the woods, her long brown hair framing her face. "Let me give you a lift. I'll take you back to my place." Dean allowed his eyes to flow up and down her body appreciatively, smirking slightly. He paused to consider it a second before responding, smiling jauntily, "Nah, I'll pass. I usually draw the line at necrophilia."

"Ooh," she responded sarcastically before backhanding him, hard, sending Dean to the ground. He shook his head, trying to clear it as he began to rise. A tall, well built black man stepped from the woods, smiling at the scene. The woman walked towards him, grabbing him by the face and hauling him to his feet, his hand coming up to grip hers in defense.

"Well, I don't normally get this friendly 'til the second date, but..." he said through puckered lips.

She smiled as she spoke. "You know, we could have some fun. I always like to make new friends." She lowered him down to face level then kissed him hard for a few seconds. The other man continued looking on with that mocking smile still on his lips. Dean pulled away and again spoke around her grip.

"Sorry. I never really stay with a chick that long—definitely not eternity."

A metallic springing sound broke the quiet of the woods just prior to the man grunting in shock. The smile finally fell from his face. A second sound ended with the woman bending backwards from the force. She stumbled backward and stopped, looking down at the arrowhead poking out of her chest and then back up at Dean. "Damn it."

John and Sam came out from behind the other side of the woods, walking quickly, holding their weapons. John started immediately towards her while Sam steadied his machete above the other vampire to keep him where he was. "Barely even stings," she added mockingly.

"Give it time, sweetheart. That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood. It's like poison to you, isn't it?" John replied, smiling sardonically back into her eyes. The woman's own smile faded as she fell back into Dean's arms, her eyes completely glazed over. "Load her up. I'll take care of this one."

Dean carried her back towards the truck, passing Sam who still had his weapon poised. John unsheathed his machete before nodding at Sam. He glanced at his father one last time before backing away, his weapon at the ready. Once the boys were gone, John locked eyes with the other man for a second before bringing his large knife down in a swinging arch, blood splattering across the now quiet woods.

Hidden deep in the forest, John and Dean stood, looking into the open weapons' case of the truck. A large crackling fire burned slightly behind them, with Sam keeping watch. Just beyond the fire, the woman was tied tightly to a tree, still unconscious from the blood.

"Toss this on the fire," John commented as he handed the younger man a bag. "Saffron, skunk's cabbage, and trillium—it'll block our scent and hers until we're ready."

"Stuff stinks," Dean commented as he dumped the contents into the fire; it leaped slightly as it consumed the material greedily.

"Well that's the idea. Dust your clothes with the ashes, and you'll stand a chance of not being detected."

"You sure they'll come after her?" Sam asked demurely, trying to keep the tenuous calm they had established in the cabin before their cousin had arrived. Harry, he was another reason for the slight hesitancy. Sam wasn't sure how his dad, or even himself for that matter, felt about the boy. He had obviously passed all of his father and Dean's tests but could they allow themselves to get attached to him. Sam didn't want him to get hurt and he knew his dad was worried about that as well. If Harry were to stay with them, he would always be in danger. Someone with no experience with the supernatural would be picked off easily. They just needed to get this done and get back so they could decide what to do.

"Yeah. Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun. But the blood sickness is gonna wear off soon. So you don't have a lot of time." John glanced back at the woman as she stirred slightly before falling still again.

"Half an hour ought to do it," Sam commented. Behind them, white smoke billowed out from the fire as Dean joined them.

"And then I want you out of the area as fast as you can," John said, addressing both his sons. Both of them started when they heard what their father said. "Return to the cabin, get your cousin and get out."

"But—"

"Dad, you can't take care of them all yourself."

"I'll have her and the Colt."

"But after—we're gonna meet up, right? Use the gun _together_, right?" Sam said as he tried to bargain with him. John remained silent, glancing down at the ground away from his son. Dean looked at his brother before looking at his father. "You're leaving again, aren't you? You still want to go after the demon alone? You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this."

John looked up at that. "Like what?"

"Like children," Sam explained.

"You are my children. I'm trying to keep you safe." Both kept their voices even, both upset but not angry, both trying to make the other understand. "What about Harry, huh? You want him to be left unprotected?" John wasn't above using Harry's still undetermined innocence to his advantage.

"Dad, all due respect, but that's a bunch of crap." Sam and John looked up shocked at Dean while he stared into the fire. He couldn't look his old man in the eye because he might back down before he said what he needed to say.

"Excuse me?" John choked out.

"You know what Sammy and I have been huntin'. Hell, you sent us on a few huntin' trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe. And, Harry's only safe on a plane home, which we can _all_ do." If his father could use the boy to barter, then hell, so could Dean. Neither were commenting on the glaringly obvious fact that they shouldn't be quite this concerned about his safety as they weren't one hundred percent sure he was who he said was. Sam knew better though. As soon as Harry drank the holy water, crossed the salt lines, used the silver cutlery, he'd also passed into his father and Dean's protective circle; they just didn't want to admit it yet because it would mean caring about him, and they weren't the share-and-care kind of guys.

"It's not the same thing, Dean," their father tried, ignoring what he'd said about Harry, not wanting to think of the boy going home but knowing it's the best place for him, where he's safe. John flashed back to the motel, handing the boy his cell number. Why had he done that? It was a rookie move that could get him and his boys killed and yet...he knew it was the right thing to do. Ah, hell when did he start believing his own lie?

"Then what is it? Why do you want us out of the big fight?" The blond man continued. This was the first real argument the pair had had; the first time, Dean had verbally questioned his father about the important things. He'd argued with the man before about trivial stuff, like school or staying out late with some chick he'd met in a bar but not about this, never about hunting.

"This demon? It's a bad son of a bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive."

"You mean you can't be as reckless," Dean said harshly. John swallowed back his retort and took a second before responding.

"Look….I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece. Your mother's death—it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die, too. I won't," he amended.

"What happens if you die? Dad, what happens if you die and we could have done somethin' about it?" Dean continued passionately, hoping his father would understand where they were coming from and accept them helping him. "You know, I've been thinkin'—I think maybe Sammy's right about this one. I think we should do this together. We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are. You know it."

Sam had stayed quiet, letting his brother to try to do what he'd never been able to do, change John's mind. When he looked at his face, he knew they'd failed. John was resolute.

"We're running out of time. You do your job, and you get out of the area. That's an order." He walked away without looking back. Dean stared down to keep from watching his father leave while Sam glared straight ahead.

**~*~*~**

The barn was settled in for the night. A man was sitting, drinking straight from the bottle, seemingly waiting for something and yet not. The place was pretty dirty, bottles and papers strewn all over but the man hardly seemed to notice. Hearing a noise, he rose, taking the bottle with him. He walked aimlessly through the barn, not particularly scared of anything that could be there. He swung the bottle mindlessly as he looked for the source of the noise. He slowed as he neared the door, giving it a closer inspection. Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, he took swig from the bottle as he turned, face to face with Dean. "Boo." He brought the machete up quickly and slashed diagonally across the man's neck, beheading him.

Dean hurried over to a cellar, peering into it. He saw many bodies huddled together, trying to get away from his prying eyes. "I told you I'd come back." He took the hook from his pocket and once again used it to break the locks on the cage holding them in.

**~*~*~**

John drove along the highway that cut through the woods, right along the barn, expecting the vampires to take the bait. Once they were following him, it would give his boys plenty of time to get the victims out and away. He hoped his boys would listen to him and leave this to him. John was worried though that they would try to help and put themselves in greater danger.

The woman beside him began to stir but she settled in again. Light shone against his eyes and he glanced in the rearview mirror. Two cars came out of the fog, racing down the highway. He smiled inwardly, glad this part of his plan was working.

He continued down the highway, occasionally checking on the cars following him. However, fifteen minutes in, they faded into the fog again. John glanced back, but they were gone. Feeling uneasy, he continued on around the bend in the road. There in front of him, were the two cars, stopped. Four vampires were standing in front of them, ready for the truck.

John slowed to a stop and waited for them to make the first move. The one in front, the man he'd seen back at the barn before they got caught, called out to him, "Get out!"

Opening his door, he stepped out slowly.

"Who are you?" the man continued.

"The name's Winchester," he replied stoically.

"Where are your friends?" he asked softly, dangerously. This was something John understood. The quieter a man was, the more dangerous he became.

"Clearin' out your nest," he responded, knowing the boys would be long gone from there before they returned.

"Where's Kate?" the leader asked, getting right to the point.

"Come here, sweetheart." John started away from the car slightly, taking with him a rope that had Kate attached at the end. Her hands were completely bound but she was slowly coming to. Once she was fully out of the car, he held her close to his chest, with a long blade to her throat.

"Kate, you alright?" The man asked, starting forward but stopping on seeing the blade.

"Dead man's blood," she said by way of explanation.

"You son of a bitch," the other man muttered softly.

"We want the Colt – Elkin's gun. Trade." John said in a steady voice, not in the least bothered being surrounded by beings that could kill him in an instant.

"Is that what this is all about? I mean, you can't shoot us all, right? We'll kill you."

"Oh, I don't need it for you. I'm savin' it for somethin' else. Put the Colt down, or she goes first."

The leader brought up his hands to stop John from doing anything. "All right. Just don't hurt her." He took the gun from his back pocket and laid it gently on the ground.

"Back up." He took a step back. "Further." He continued until he was even with the other vampires before stopping. John edged forward. He bent over carefully, watching the vampires before him, keeping a hold on the one in his arms. He never noticed the loosening of the cords. Just as he grabbed the gun in a slight grip, the man in front of him spoke.

"That's a nice move. You almost made it." Kate brought her arms up abruptly, swinging them around and striking him across the face, throwing him into the front of the truck and forcing him to drop the gun. It slid away, clattering against the road. The man stalked up to John, pulling him to his feet and slamming his fist into his face throwing him over the hood of the truck into the open drivers' door, breaking the window as he did so. John fell on his back, the glass raining down on him and he lay there, apparently knocked out. The man continued forward.

The same metallic sound that split the woods before did so again, striking another female vampire, this time a blond. The others looked around, searching for the source of the arrow. The two brothers burst from the woods, running straight for them. Dean took a second to aim and fire an arrow into the chest of one of the vampires, before heading to check on his father. The leader barely broke his stride as he threw out an arm, bringing down Sam efficiently. Just before he grabbed the younger man, a shape flew from the trees. It slammed into him, knocking them both to the ground.

Dean turned at the sound, bringing up his machete and saw the lead vampire standing there, holding his new cousin in a chokehold. Sam was standing off to the side, glaring defiantly at the vampire, holding his crossbow ready to fire. Harry gasped for breath as he struggled against the grip of the being holding him.

Harry knew it was stupid; Moody would be shouting at him about getting caught so easily but he was never one to think before acting. He'd been following the brothers for close to two hours, using magic to cover his tracks and silence his footsteps. Harry was quite confused at first what they were doing; he thought perhaps he was related to American serial killers when he saw John fire a cross bow at the woman. However, after realizing she was unharmed, Harry knew there was something else involved, something he was missing. He decided to continue following them, knowing he had to get more information. For muggles, they were actually exceedingly hard to track but thankfully he'd thought to use the point-me spell which cut down dramatically on the time it took to find them when they evaded him. At the fire, he took in everything they were saying but nothing was making sense. It was unlike anything he'd heard in defense. Vampires, really? The ministry would have a field day if they ever found out that muggles not only knew about magic but were also actively fighting against it. When they'd been discussing sending him home, Harry's heart had constricted and he'd nearly ran out, begging them to let him stay, but he held himself back. However, when he saw the man go after his cousin, Harry threw caution to the wind and was darting out of his hiding spot before he had a chance to think. Barreling into the being, catching it by surprise due to his magical silence, Harry realized he'd made a big mistake.

"Don't! I'll break his neck. Put the weapons down. Both of you." Dean and Sam both maintained their stance, holding their weapons at the ready until they realized it was futile. Dean glanced at his younger brother subtly nodding his head and they both lowered their weapons cautiously. "You people—why can't you just leave us alone?" He turned his attention to the boy in his arms without overlooking the jumpy brothers. "Why are you even with them? I can smell it, the power, the darkness. We're alike, you and I." The man let up on Harry slightly as he spoke.

Taking advantage of it, Harry bit out, "You are nothing like me! You're a monster!" Harry always let his mouth run away from him when he was scared, saying things that often made the situation worse. But this being, this vampire had threatened his family and he didn't care how innocent it was, that made him an enemy in Harry's book.

The vampire snarled at this, readjusting his hold, effectively blocking his air again. "We have as much right to live as you do."

"I don't think so." The leader turned towards the older man, taking his hostage with him. John was standing by the truck, his arm extended before him, holding the Colt. A shot rang out abruptly without another word spoken, striking the man in the forehead. Spreading out from the wound, black sulfur began to appear.

Taking advantage of his loosened grip, Harry stumbled away from the man into Dean's arms, taking much needed air into his lungs. They all watched as a trickle of thick blood ran down the center of his nose before he fell to his knees then onto his hands.

"Luther!" Kate shouted, desperately. A bright light erupted from his body in the outline of a skeleton before it dissipated completely and Luther fell to the ground, no energy left in his dead body. Kate began towards the Winchesters, a furious look on her face. The woman that Sam had attempted to help pulled her back.

"Kate, don't!" She continued pulling her toward a car, leaving with her quickly before the hunters got over their shock and tried to kill one of them.

Instead however, the Winchesters were thinking that they had finally found a way to kill the Demon. They all had small, knowing triumphant smiles on their faces. Harry glanced between them all, trying to get out of the death grip Dean had on his jacket without bringing their attention to him.

John seemed to snap out of it first. "We'd better get out of here boys; they'll be stirring soon." They nodded and when Harry began to turn away, Dean realized he still had a tight grip on him. He let him go reluctantly, knowing they'd have explain everything to him but that made him want to send him home all the more.

Just as Harry was about to enter the truck behind Dean, John called out to him, "We'll discuss this later, you hear?"

He nodded, "Yes, sir." Harry sounded defeated. They were going to send him home, he knew it. He'd finally found family that knew about his world, well not _his_ world per say, but the supernatural world at least. And they weren't afraid of it. But, he couldn't help but wonder, about what that vampire, Luther had said. The darkness, was it really within him, could others tell that easily? Maybe it was better if he went home, then he couldn't hurt them, his family. It hurt to even think it and yet, if he went home, wouldn't he be putting the others at risk? They might be able to handle it better but the Winchesters had handled the vampires pretty well. Harry didn't know what he'd do, but he trusted he'd figure it out when the time came, like he always did.

**~*~*~**

The ride back to the cabin took less time than they all remembered; it might have been due to the fact that everyone had something on their minds. Before any of them knew it, they were all inside, packing up. As John entered the room, Harry was leaving with a bag. They exchanged a look and each knew the inevitable conversation was coming. But right now, John had another conversation that needed to be said without his nephew.

After shutting the door, he cleared his throat. "So, boys..."

They both turned and walked towards their father. "Yes, sir?" Sam asked.

"You ignored a direct order back there."

"Yes, sir," he said again.

"But we saved your ass," Dean interjected before John could say anything. He sighed before responding.

"You're right."

The brothers glanced at each other shocked. "I am?"

"It scares the hell out of me. You two are all I've got. And Harry, I suppose. But I guess we _are_ stronger as a family. So….we go after this damn thing—together."

"Really?" All three turned towards the figure standing in the open doorway. Harry had entered again, not realizing they were talking. He stood stock still, staring at them cautiously, nervously. "Did you really mean what you said?" The young boy felt hope begin to blossom in his chest but he squashed it down immediately. He couldn't allow himself to dream that they'd take him in so easily.

The Winchesters all shared a look. John sighed as he started towards the boy. "It's not that easy. You see, we've been doing this for a long time. What you did tonight was very stupid—"

"But it worked! Sam's fine, he—" He closed his mouth abruptly, clamping down on the emotions running through him.

"This isn't the first time Sam's faced these things."

"I know what a vampire is," Harry said coldly. He refused to listen to the little voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his best friend that he didn't have a clue about the methods his family had used to take down the vampire or even that it was a vampire until he'd heard them talking. Harry knew he shouldn't be mad at John, that he didn't know, but he felt like he was being treated like a child again, being left out in order to be protected. It reminded him too much of when he was younger, of Dumbledore, of Sirius. Those weren't memories he wanted to consider right now, considering that they were dead.

Knowing his father as well as he did, Sam could tell he was getting frustrated at the young boy. He was bound to say something he didn't really mean and hurt him when he was only trying to protect him.

"Harry," he began, focusing his gentle brown eyes on him. "I understand how you feel, believe me I understand, but just knowing what's out there isn't enough. You could have been killed tonight and ..." Sam trailed off as the possibility fully hit him, as he realized he could have lost his cousin before he'd ever had a chance to know him.

"So the answer is no, you didn't really mean it," Harry said thickly, ignoring what Sam had just said. People were always trying to kill him but he wasn't going to let that run his life. "You don't have to drive me to an airport, I'll, uh, I can find one. I mean, I found you, didn't I?" He turned and left the cabin just as quietly as he had entered it. Harry's thoughts raged as he stormed out. He knew he shouldn't have hoped, shouldn't have believed they'd be different just because they knew what was out there. They were just like the Dursley's, pushing him away before they even knew him, making judgments based on the past.

No one said a word. They all just stared at the doorway, wondering how it had ended before it had ever really begun. Not knowing where the boy was going, Dean began towards the door.

"Dean," John said quietly. "Maybe I should..."

"I got it." Dean knew his father and he knew the man, while his intentions were good, would only make it worse. He however had been dealing with pissy teenagers ever since Sam had hit puberty. He didn't have to look very far; Harry was standing at the edge of the wood, staring at a mirror in his hand.

Dean didn't say anything as he came to stand beside him. "You planning on walking there? Cause that sounds like a pretty stupid plan."

"What do you care?" Harry muttered, shoving the mirror back into his pocket. Before he could walk away, Dean grabbed his arm. He felt the shudder run through him, but he filed it away for later, needing to deal with this first.

"Look, we might have only met a couple of hours ago, but you're still my cousin, nothing's going to change that. So yeah, I care." Dean conveniently didn't mention the fact that he'd been cataloguing potential methods of killing the boy before he was forced to admit he was human. He didn't know when he'd stopped being "the kid" and started being "his cousin" though, and Dean didn't feel like strolling down that particular avenue quite yet.

Harry shrugged. "Just because you're my cousin, doesn't mean you care. It doesn't mean we're...family." He said it so nonchalantly, so matter-of-factly that it took the older man by surprise.

Dean stared at the boy in shock. "Of course it does! Look at me, look at me!" Harry reluctantly turned his face up, looking more over his shoulder than in his eyes. "I don't know who told you otherwise but you listen to me. You will always be my family. You hear me."Family meant everything to Dean and for this kid to throw it back in his face, as though the very idea of family was conditional, made all his protective instincts rear their ugly heads. He sighed and turned to look into the woods, running his hands along his face.

"When Sam went to Stanford, he and my dad got in a fight and Dad told him to never come back. He didn't speak to him for four years, but that doesn't mean he stopped loving him. You got to understand, my dad thinks it's his job to protect people, and that includes us. Especially us. And now you're a part of that." Harry stared at his older cousin. Dean was staring into the woods, his face completely impassive as he spoke but Harry could see how much this topic hurt him, could see how his green eyes clouded over in emotion. The younger boy knew this was a rare thing and he shouldn't just dismiss what he had to say.

"But what if I don't want to be protected?" Harry asked passionately. His voice was taking on a petulant tone but he didn't care; Harry needed someone to understand. "People are always trying to protect me and...I'm tired. I'm tired of always being treated like a kid who's done something wrong whenever I try to help. I don't need to be protected all the time!"

"We all need to be protected _sometimes_," Dean said. "Maybe sometimes can be enough?" He turned back to Harry and appraised him slowly. He knew it was stupid and irresponsible and his father was going to kick his ass seven ways to Sunday for even thinking it but he knew it was right. "You said you know what vampires are, what about demons?"

Harry looked up at him, surprise on his face. Dean smirked at him, lifting an eyebrow in silent challenge. "Well, not a lot...or anything really, but I'm a quick study."

"C'mon," he turned and headed back towards the cabin where John and Sam were waiting by the cars. "Oh, and this is the last time we ever have a chick flick moment, got it?" He started again before turning back. "And don't tell Sam."

Confused, Harry quickly nodded. "Yeah, sure whatever."

"You said we were stronger as a family, right?" Dean began as he reached the others. John nodded unsure where this was going but he had a suspicion. "Well, then I think that includes all our family. I mean, he did save Sam's big ass back there."

John looked between the three boys before turning fully to look at Harry. "You willing to listen? Even when you don't want to? Cause I ain't just talking to hear myself talk," he glanced pointedly at Sam and Dean as he said this.

Knowing how important his answer was, Harry kept his sharp retort in check. "Yes, sir."

John sighed and rubbed his hands along his face. "Well, I don't like it but I guess we better get started if we want to find this demon." Harry smiled gratefully before hurrying over to the cabin. Hesitating slightly over the threshold, he entered without looking back.

John waited until Harry was inside before rounding on his son. "Dean! What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that no matter what that kid said, he wasn't going home, sir," Dean responded, his face completely free of emotion as he was interrogated by his father, only his eyes showed how angry he was. Sam wanted to back his brother up but knew when to stay out of it. This was between Dean and John. "Harry found us twice, _twice!_ And that's not something that's easy to do, you taught us better than that! I just thought it'd be better if he was with us instead of following us."

"We could protect him, teach him to defend himself," Sam interjected. His father's impassive eyes shifted to him. John was closed, simply taking in what his sons had to say. "I mean, he passed all your tests, got through your wards and everything, found us, stood up to a vampire. How much more does he have to do to prove himself?!" His breathing was heavy and Dean glanced over at his younger brother. He had a feeling this was no longer only about Harry and decided to change topics; their dad had already said yes after all.

"How did he get through those wards?" He asked in a calmer voice, respectful. John and Dean slipped back into their roles, neither willing to talk about the deviation that had just occurred. "You said they were designed to keep stuff in as well as out."

"Yeah..."John said as he began walking towards the door. "Evil stuff...and like you boys said, Harry's not evil."

The brothers glanced at each other before shrugging their shoulders. Their father, no matter how much he trusted them, would only ever give them half the information all the time and all the information half the time.

**~*~*~**

That evening as everyone lay sleeping, John contemplated what he'd done. He was sitting stretched out in the chair, a blanket thrown over himself and a pillow behind his back. It wasn't the most comfortable but he'd slept on worse. He knew he shouldn't have let Harry come but he had a feeling Harry would be able to handle himself. While he didn't appreciate Dean's tone, he'd made some good points. Harry was certainly determined and if John had to wager a bet, he would put his money on Harry being as stubborn as either of his boys. Maybe he didn't get all his stubbornness from his father, perhaps his mother...Oh God, Lily! What had he done? How could he let his sister's son do this? It was bad enough that his own boys were hunters but his sister's too? John took in the sleeping boy's features and vowed he'd protect him from this. He couldn't save his own sons from this life, but this child he could save. What John didn't realize was that Harry was thinking the same thing; praying his past didn't come back to haunt his new family. They had enough troubles; he didn't want to add to them. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to worry over it. The young boy snuggled into the blankets and finally let sleep take him. Harry finally had what he'd always wanted, a family. One that cared for him no matter what.


	6. Part II: Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Well, this is the start of the next part of the story and for all you ardent opponents of the Harry/Ginny ship, this chapter probably won't be your favorite. As I've said before, the story itself is about the relationship between Harry and the Winchesters but there are side stories, including Harry's relationships with his friends and Ginny. Also this chapter is the first that doesn't use any Supernatural quotes so I'd greatly appreciate it if you all would let me know if my characterizations of the Winchesters are accurate. Speaking of reviews, thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter; I love getting your comments! Thanks to my awesome beta, Kirallie.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

**Part II: Salvation**

**~*~*~**

_I lit my pain on fire_

__

And I watched it all burn down

Now I'm dancing in the ashes

And there's no one else around

Cause I wanna be a part of something

This is just a story of a broken soul

_"Take Me" Papa Roach_

**~*~*~**

_The atmosphere was thick with tension as the Great Hall was lined with people watching two fights in anticipation, both fearing and embracing the end of both. Spells rained from Molly's wand as she battled against Voldemort's most valuable Death Eater, Bellatrix. It was anyone's guess how she'd survived as long as she had. On the opposite end, the Dark Lord himself was engaged with three adversaries as they attempted to bring him down. None of the fighters were holding back, each was fighting for their very lives and those of everyone around them. _

"_What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" the dark haired woman taunted, her eyes slightly manic from the sheer bliss the chaos caused. Bella smiled as she looked into Molly's brown eyes that normally shown with compassion but were currently filled with hatred. The fact that she could reduce people to their most basic emotions – the hunger, the need for revenge, the need to kill – brought her more pleasure than anything else. Bella took great pleasure in tearing people down. "When Mummy's gone the same way as little Perfect Percy?" _

"_You – will – never – touch – our – children – again!" Molly screamed, a hysterical note in her voice. Her red hair flying about her face, her eyes wild in their anger; she became almost mythical as her emotions consumed her, changing her into an Amazon. _

_Bellatrix's laughter rang through the hall, similar to the deranged one Sirius had just before his rather unexpected death a year and a half ago. Taking advantage, a purple spell shot from the end of Molly's wand, whizzing under the mad woman's arm and hitting her square in the chest. Her expression stilled as the light slowly left her eyes and she toppled to the ground. Molly's eyes gleamed triumphantly, her smile at the fallen woman showed no sadness or remorse for what she had done. She looked like the very person she had just condemned._

_An enraged scream erupted in the Hall, blasting from the Dark Lord as he saw his loyal Death Eater fall. It continued to ring as though he couldn't control the hatred rolling from his body in waves, piercing Harry's ears and he knew he couldn't escape. Those glaring red eyes had zeroed in on him. The cloak! The cloak was still on him and yet he knew Voldemort could see him, see into his very soul. _

"_Harry!" A voice was heard over the screaming and he latched onto it, trying desperately to break free from his frozen state, to flee from that abominable sound, but he couldn't. Harry felt Voldemort's cold pale hands grasp him and hold him firmly in place, seeing only those red eyes and hearing only that scream. The Hall had melted away and was replaced by utter darkness but for those red eyes that bore into his. His body was rigid in his fear, though he continued to struggle, unable to remove those cold long fingers from their vice-like grip on his arms. _

"_Harry!" The voice was more insistent and slowly the red eyes began to recede and darkness over came him._

Bolting up, Harry shoved his hands forward, throwing his captor off. The screaming had stopped but the darkness remained until he slowly opened his eyes. Taking in deep breaths while glancing around the room, Harry realized he'd had a nightmare and he'd been the one screaming.

Sam and Dean were standing at the foot of the bed; the younger brother looked slightly uncomfortable while the elder wielded a rather large hunting knife. Both brothers' hair was tousled from sleep and their clothes were wrinkled but they were alert and their eyes focused. Dean slowly brought his hand holding the knife behind him, hiding it from view. John was slowing rising from the floor where Harry had shoved him. Flushing slightly, Harry stared at the ugly brown bed spread, wishing he'd remembered to put up a silencing charm.

John sighed slightly before glancing at his eldest son who merely nodded and headed for the bathroom, dropping the hunting knife on their bed as he went. Sam sat heavily on the end of Harry's bed, his brown eyes glowing with concern. "You alright?"

"I'm fine, just a nightmare," Harry bit out, praying they thought it was about the vampires. Sam's steady voice continued despite Harry's antagonism.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Nope."

"Here." A small cup of water appeared in Harry's sight and he took it with trembling hands. He tried desperately to stave off the tremors and after a minute got them under control, but he knew the Winchesters had seen. He sipped the water, letting the cool liquid saturate his dry and abused throat before handing it back without a word.

"Why don't we all try to get some rest," John said as he returned the cup to the nightstand. "It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

Harry rolled over onto his side, staring straight at the wall, knowing when he closed his eyes the nightmare would return. It was going to be a long _night_.

**~*~*~**

Sunlight slowly filtered in through the window as the occupants of the beds slowly stirred, wiping remnants of sleep from their eyes. Smells began to accost their noses and alertness followed. Dean glanced over at his father who was sitting at the table, sipping from a mug that was probably filled with fresh brewed coffee, if the smell was anything to go by. Before him was a plate of what appeared to be a homemade breakfast, eggs, toast and bacon. Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd had a hot breakfast that wasn't in a diner. Turning towards the kitchen, he saw his cousin standing at the stove, busy over a sizzling sauté pan.

Harry turned at the sound of the brothers waking up. "Oh, good, you're up," he said smiling, but Dean noticed it didn't quite reach his eyes. In fact, dark heavy bags hung beneath his emerald orbs, contrasting sharply with his pale features. Dean knew without asking that Harry hadn't been able to fall back asleep last night. "I made breakfast, hope you don't mind..." The teen was hesitant, as though apologizing for assuming he could use the stove.

Sam snorted before hastily getting up, stumbling towards the kitchen as his larger frame was still asleep. "Please, do you realize the last time we even used a kitchen...?" He accepted the plate Harry handed him, smiling at him gratefully. The younger boy smiled back, lighting up his green eyes a bit.

"Where'd you get the ingredients anyway?" Dean asked casually hurrying over, not wanting to miss out on the food.

"Magic," came the response. The two younger Winchesters looked up; shock written on their faces, silence suddenly filled the cabin. Harry turned around, a smirk playing on his features. "I'm kidding, we went out before you two woke up." Sam and Dean glanced at their father as Harry turned back to the stove to shut it off; John nodded subtly before taking anther sip of the coffee.

When John had woken up that morning to find Harry sitting up in bed staring at the clock, he knew he had to get him out the cabin. He asked him if wanted to go out to get breakfast with him while the boys slept and Harry quickly agreed. It was the younger boy's suggestion that they buy actual ingredients instead of going to the diner. John was surprised that the boy knew how to cook let alone was willing to do it for them.

The morning had been a tad strained as it was just the two of them. Harry wasn't quite sure what to call his uncle, they hadn't really talked about their relationship since their talk in the diner the day before. So far Harry had gotten by on not calling him anything, simply referring to John as 'him'. John on the other hand didn't know how to respond to him, not being his father or even his legal guardian. He didn't know how to act, how to be an uncle.

"So where'd you learn to cook anyway?" Sam asked as Harry took a seat, holding a mug of steaming liquid between his hands; if he had to guess, he'd put his money on tea.

"My aunt," Harry responded truthfully, carefully avoiding their eyes, which wasn't difficult as Dean and Sam were paying particular attention to their breakfast and John was pouring over sheets of paper.

"So you two are close?" Dean asked, trying to keep the conversation going, knowing his dad was listening and taking everything in.

"I guess you could say that," the boy hedged. "It's a little hard to explain...So when are we going to go after that demon? And um, not that I'm against killing a demon, but why are we going after it in the first place? "

The question brought the Winchesters up short; they'd forgotten that Harry knew nothing what got them started. He'd just been so adamant that it never occurred to them that he didn't understand what he was getting involved in.

John cleared his throat, looking up from the papers. "Twenty three years ago, my wife Mary was killed by a demon. We've been chasing this thing our whole lives and now I think we might have found a way to kill it." He sighed, rubbing his hand along his face tiredly. "Look, Harry, I can't promise this is going to end well, which is why you are not going to be involved—" He held up a hand when he could see Harry starting to protest."Which is why you are not going to be involved in the _actual_ fighting. Sam and Dean have been doing this their whole lives but you...I can't let you do this for us, I won't."

Harry tried to reign in his anger at again being treated like a child and attempted to process his uncle's logic. He had a point, several actually. He didn't know anything about demons or how to fight them; this wasn't even _his_ fight; his cousins deserved this more than he did, like he deserved to kill Voldemort for his parents. Harry took a deep breath before nodding slowly. Snape would be turning in his grave if he ever found out Harry actually thought something through before running his mouth.

"Alright, I guess that's fair," he allowed before perking up again. "So how do you kill a demon? As far as I know, you can only send it back to hell, but that's not actually killing them. It's more like sending them to prison, I guess."

John shared a look with his sons who were both surprised at his apparent knowledge of the supernatural. Yesterday, they'd been a bit preoccupied with killing the vampires and finding out about Harry that they never considered he might actually know anything about the supernatural. Granted he said he knew what vampires were but most people had heard of Dracula, not many people knew about demons or thought about ways to kill them.

"Cristo," Dean said under his breath but Harry just stared at them in confusion. Sam glared at his brother. Honestly, hadn't they already been through this and decided Harry wasn't possessed.

"Uh, thanks for the compliment but your Latin's a bit dodgy. It's technically _Cristus_," Harry said, trying to break the tension. While his Latin wasn't exactly what anyone would call perfect, he'd had to at least learn that phrase from his catechism lessons the Dursley's put him through. Harry figured that when he was younger, they thought maybe, along with trying to stamp the magic out of him, he would be filled with religion and the magic would be driven out. Fortunately, neither worked, and Harry had to suffer from both his relatives and the particularly strict nuns whose lessons he'd had to sit through.

"Wait, when did you learn Latin?" Sam asked, surprised his translation had been contradicted.

"Catechism lessons during primary," answered Harry. "We didn't actually _learn_ Latin in its entirety but phrases like that were common knowledge. So killing the demon…?"

Both Sam and Dean glanced at their father, waiting for his response. It had taken a tumultuous fight, their cousin nearly getting killed and them defying their father's order to get the answer out of the man. Would John really answer Harry so readily?

"The Colt," John said, ignoring the looks his sons were throwing at him. Harry had a look of skepticism on his face.

"A gun? You think a gun could kill a demon?" He asked incredulously.

"It killed a vampire," John rebutted. "This gun is said to kill anything." He glanced back down at his papers indicating the conversation was over.

"Mmm," Harry nodded, lost in thought. A gun that could kill anything, huh? Harry could think of a few things that could kill anything and wondered if they would work on a demon, or if the gun would work on magical creatures like nundus or items like horcruxes. His uncle's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"Right," John said, ruffling his papers, like he's trying to get himself back on track. "Listen, boys, as much as I hate to wait, Harry needs to get a crash course in hunting and I need a day to put everything together. So for now, Sam and Dean, you're going to go over everything you know with Harry and tonight we'll begin weapons training."

Harry sat up a bit straighter. "Weapons?"

**~*~*~**

The three cousins were alone in the cabin while John went to get supplies. Dean was sitting on the bed with numerous guns and gun parts scattered around him while he cleaned the weapons; he was leaving a few for Harry tonight. Dean knew his father wasn't going to put a gun in the kid's hands until he could take care of it first. Sam was sitting at the table with Harry, several books laid out in front of them, their father's journal among them.

"Alright, um I guess we should start with what you know," Sam said, trying to figure out how to condense over twenty years of hunting experience into a single day.

"Okay," Harry said, nodding. "Ask me something and we'll see if I know it or not." He was planning on drawing from his lessons during third year when they spent the most time on things that didn't have to do with another wizard attacking.

"How about an easy one? What's a werewolf?" snarked Dean, tired of them beating around the bush.

Harry smiled before taking a deep breath and beginning. "A werewolf is someone who has been infected by the disease lycanthropy, which can only be transmitted via bite. Once they are bitten, there is no cure and once a month during the full moon, that person will transform. All traces of humanity will vanish and they will attack any human they find, including loved ones and friends. While a werewolf can never be cured, they can be restrained during 'that time of the month.' When that happens, finding no one else to attack, they will often end with biting themselves...It is believed that after their initial turning, the wolf becomes part of their being altering certain characteristics of their behavior, such as taking on a pack mentality or being particularly vulnerable to certain smells or sounds… um, that's about it, I guess," Harry said trying to think of anything else. He didn't think mentioning Wolfsbane potion would be such a good idea right now as he'd have to explain about magic and himself.

Sam and Dean stared at their cousin. They'd only come across werewolves a few times in all their years as hunters, and yet here's a kid who gave them more than textbook definition. That only comes with experience. "Where did you learn all that?"

Harry shrugged sheepishly. "A book?"

The brothers gave him identical looks of disbelief. "Uh huh, right and I'm the Easter bunny."

"No, seriously," the boy said, hoping they didn't dig deeper into his past. "I got it from a book." Well, technically Hermione got it from a book but then she'd told Harry, so it was practically the same thing.

"Alright, uh, how about something harder..." Sam said, flipping through the pages of his dad's journal. "Here we go, how about a hellhound."

The younger boy sat thinking for a second, knowing he'd heard the term somewhere before. An image of a book came to the forefront of his mind and he suddenly remembered. "In Greek mythology, a hellhound was the massive three-headed dog which guarded the gates to Hell named Cerberus. The only time he was bested was when some musician sang him to sleep. Across cultures hellhounds are the creatures that come to take the damned away to Hell and can only be seen by their victims...in England we call them Grims..."His accented voice faded as he tried to think of more information to add.

"Dude, you're like a walking encyclopedia!" Dean exclaimed breaking him out of his thoughts. Harry laughed, having never had anyone call him that before.

"You think I'm an encyclopedia!" This sent into further peals of laughter. "You should hear my friend Hermione. She—Oh shit!" He'd completely forgotten about his friends; they must be worried sick about him, particularly Ginny and Hermione. "Can I borrow either of your phones?"

Sam dug his out of his pocket. Grabbing it, Harry hurried over to his backpack, searching for the slip of parchment Hermione had shoved into his hand just before he'd left. He sat on the bed, quickly dialing and waited while it rang.

"Hello? Harry is this you?"

"Hermi—"

"Oh thank Merlin! Where are you? Are you alright? Do you realize how worried we are?" The distraught girl continued rambling on, not allowing Harry to get a word in edgewise so he sat back and let her talk, knowing she wouldn't stop until she'd said all she needed to say. "Ginny and I were going to tell Molly if you hadn't called in the next hour! Honestly what were you thinking?! This is by far the dumbest thing you've done and that's in a long list of dumb things! Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" The young brunette felt himself smiling at his friend's antics. He knew as soon as Hermione answered she would bombard him with questions about his health and wellbeing before ripping into him for not letting them know he'd at least gotten to Colorado unscathed. His friends rarely let him go off by himself on his little adventures so this break with no word must be killing them.

Harry waited a beat before answering her. "You done?" She huffed in response. He glanced over at his cousins; Sam was looking at the journal, at least pretending to give him privacy while Dean was unabashedly listening in. Harry gave the older man a look which he responded to by settling more comfortably in his seat smirking all the while. Sam threw a pencil at his brother's head and Dean turned to glare at him before sighing and grabbing another gun. Harry knew neither was actually working but at least they were pretending. "I'm fine, I'm in Colorado in some cabin. I'm sorry I didn't call you earlier but I, uh, I actually forgot and last night, we kinda got hung up doing stuff, just catching up and things like that." He quickly added before she asked what he'd really done.

"So, it worked? You found them?" the excitement in her voice was palpable. Harry couldn't tell if Hermione was excited about the spell working or him finding his relatives, it was probably a combination of the two. "Oh, sweet Merlin! What are they like? C'mon Harry, well?"

"Honestly, Mione!" Harry exclaimed, flicking his eyes over again. "They're, uh they're great. Look can I—"

"That's it! _They're great_? But you said, you spent the night talking and that's all you have to say!"

Harry rolled his eyes, a blush already creeping up his face. This was one of the pitfalls to having a female best friend. "Yes, that's it and that's all you're getting. Now can I please talk to Ginny?"

He could tell she wasn't pleased with his answer and he knew Ginny was going to be even harder but he really needed to talk to his girlfriend. On the other side of the line, he heard Hermione telling Ginny how to properly use the phone before handing it over.

"Harry?" she asked tentatively. He felt his spirits soar when he heard her voice; he'd forgotten how much she made things brighter just by being herself.

Smiling, he answered, "Hey love. Sorry I forgot to call, things just happened and it slipped my mind. I hope I didn't worry you?"

"Nah, I was fine," she said lightly.

"Sure," Harry answered cheekily knowing she'd been just as worried as Hermione was about him going into an unknown situation by himself. At least when he'd gone in search of the horcruxes, he'd had Ron and Hermione with him.

"Well, maybe a little," Ginny allowed, the laughter evident in her voice. He knew she would be the one to worry the most and he hated doing that to her. "I'll beat you later."

"I'll hold you to it," Harry had totally blocked out the two brothers and focused solely on his girlfriend.

"Kinky. So Colorado huh?"

"Yup." Clearing his throat, he sat up straighter. "Listen, I'm going to stay here, join them on their road trip. I know we aren't going to see each other as often but I'll be home for Christmas and with school, it'll fly by and—"

"Harry," Ginny said breaking through his babble. "It's fine. Sure I wish you were here, but I know how important this is for you and I would never take this away from you. I love you too much."

Harry smiled, softening as he heard her pronouncement. No matter how many times he heard it, it never ceased to amaze him that she chose him when she could have anyone. "What would I do without you?"

"I don't know, let's never find out."

"Deal." Remembering where he was and who he was with, Harry finished up. "Hey, I've got to go. When I get a phone, I'll call you, alright?"

"Bye Harry, love you."

"Love you too, Gin." He snapped the phone shut, staring at it for a second before getting up and returning to the table, handing Sam his phone in the process. "So, uh what's next?"

**~*~*~**

For the next several hours, the boys slowly went through all the creatures they'd ever come across, teaching him about surefire ways to keep most things at bay, salt, iron, hallowed grounds, things that Harry had never considered before. He wondered if they would work on some of the creatures he'd faced. Thinking back, Harry realized he'd never seen any of the ghosts go near the salt that was on the table in the Great Hall nor did they ever pass through the walking armors around the castle. He knew Remus was "allergic" to silver but was it really that simple? Could these muggle methods really work against things like dementors or lethifolds? On the other side of coin, could wizarding spells work against demons or ghosts? Harry figured there had to be a department in the ministry that dealt with bothersome ghosts but he didn't know what methods they used to get rid of them. He'd have to remember to ask Mr. Weasley next time he called.

None of them spoke about the end of his phone call. While Dean would have loved to rib the boy about his touchy-feely words with his girl, he didn't think Sam would appreciate it. His brother had listened to every word of his conversation; it looked like he was trying to keep it together. Harry didn't notice either of their reactions but he was thankful they didn't bring it up.

After lunch, John returned from his supply run. He laid the items on the table, accepting the sandwich from his nephew. "Hey, huh Harry?"

"Mmm?" Harry had been reading a book on werewolves Sam had given him, learning that there were differences between the werewolves he'd always known and the ones the Winchesters hunted. He had a theory but he'd have to run it past Hermione first. She'd definitely be able to tell him if he was onto something. Granted, she'd probably do far more research than he would to find the answer but she'd at least tell him if he was right.

"I was thinking, you called anybody since you been here?"

He looked up startled. "Yeah, called my friends. Right?" Harry responded, immediately looking to his cousins for their confirmation.

After Sam and Dean had assured their father that yes, Harry had called someone, John continued to have doubts. "Your friends, huh? I really think you should call your parents, or at the very least your aunt."

Sam turned his curious brown eyes on Harry. "Yeah, where do they think you are?"

For a minute, Harry didn't move. He continued to stare at the book in front of him, trying desperately to come up with an explanation. "They think I'm at a friend's house. My parents are away right now, and I thought it would be the best time to come. Look, when their trip is over, I'll call them. Promise." He hoped they bought it; it wasn't like he was lying. His relatives did think he was at a friend's house and his parents were away, just forever.

John considered the boy in front of him before letting the matter drop for now. He could tell Harry was lying to him, or if not outright lying then not telling him everything, but he didn't want to alienate the kid. Once again he was at a loss. With Dean, he wouldn't ever worry about it; with Sam, John'd push until Sam started shouting telling him everything before storming away. With Harry…John wasn't sure how far he could push him or what he'd do. "So, these friends of yours, they must be pretty good friends if they're willing to lie for you?"

Harry perked up a bit. His friends he could talk about until the cows came home. "Oh yeah, they're great. Known them for quite a while."

"Yeah?" John was sitting at the table organizing his papers, getting them ready to show to his boys. Sam and Dean went back to cleaning weapons, knowing their father needed this, needed to get to know Harry.

"Oh yeah," Harry took a breath before continuing. "Hermione, she's the one I called, she's the smartest girl in our year, might have been in the school. And Ron, well, no matter what, he always comes through for me. And then there's Ginny—"

Dean couldn't help it, he snickered. Sam smacked him on the arm while Harry turned red. "She's his girlfriend," Dean responded in a sing-song voice.

"Yeah," smirked Harry. "She is. Best girl anyone could have." John raised an eyebrow at the challenge but let the boys go at it.

"Yeah, so why'd she pick you?" Dean threw back. Sam just shook his head.

"What? You think she'd pick _you_? Please, Ginny's way out of your league!" Harry smiled, happy to finally share something with his cousins. They might not understand his real life, but this, this they could get. "Besides, I got two words for you: jail bait; and if those don't do it, then here's another three: six older brothers."

"Whoa, man she's got six older brothers?" asked Dean shocked. "How are you still alive?"

"Because Ron is one of them and he's my best mate," Harry conceded, smiling as he thought about the talk they'd had after Ginny had kissed him in the Common Room in front of everyone. "Believe me, I've been threatened, bullied, warned and just about every other word you can think of when they found out. But in the end, I guess they figured it was better someone they knew, trusted and cared about than someone they didn't." Harry still couldn't believe the Weasley brothers, including his best mate, had sat him down and basically told him that if he broke their little sister's heart, they'd break _him._ Harry however wasn't worried about them should anything like that happen, he's more worried about what_ she'd_ do to him. Thankfully he had no intention of hurting Ginny so there would be no need for violence.

"Yeah, but your best friend's sister?" Dean whistled. "Man, I wouldn't touch that with a ten foot pole."

"Yeah, but you don't know Ginny...Let's just say, she's goes after what she wants and well, we've all learned it's better just to give it to her."

Dean raised his eyebrows, smirking over at Sam who was attempting not to play into his brother's joke. John was waiting for Harry to realize what he'd walked into. "Really?"

Harry blushed bright red at the look Dean gave him. Taking pity on his nephew, John cleared his throat. "Did you boys teach your cousin while I was out?"

"Yes sir," Sam said. "We covered the basics and touched on the rarer myths." His father nodded.

"Good, good. Alright, you ready to learn to defend yourself?"

Harry immediately sat up straighter and looked him in the eyes. "Yes sir, where do we start?" This was something he'd been looking forward to. He knew he'd survived mostly on pure luck and a little skill but he needed to learn more. If Harry could learn muggle methods as well as hone his magical ones, he'd be pretty powerful.

John placed a small hand gun before Harry and held a similar one. Making sure Harry was following his movements and carefully worded instructions, the pair began disassembling the guns. Watching his father and cousin, Sam realized his father really did the best he could. He taught them both as carefully as he was doing with Harry. Each time Harry was stuck, John gently guided him until he figured it out on his own, before rewarding him with a quirk of his lips in recognition of his accomplishment. Sam remembered those same hands helping him when he'd first learned, that same twist of his lips when he'd first successfully assembled and disassembled a gun and that same swell of pride when he'd first bull's eyed a can. John had been there for everything, even when Sam didn't want him there. Sure Dean had taught him other things, like how to ride a bike or how to kick a soccer ball, Dad wasn't around for everything, but when he did teach him something he did it with the same care as Dean.

Dean glanced over at his brother watching the pair at the table, reading exactly what was on his face. No matter how much they fought and argued, Sam and John were more alike than either suspected. Dean knew his brother was just now figuring that out. Maybe having Harry find them wouldn't be so bad.

After showing him how to disassemble the gun, John had Harry clean every part with the precision only a military man could have. It wasn't until the parts had stood up to all three of the older men's inspection that Harry was shown how to reassemble the gun. Thinking he'd finally be shown how to shoot, Harry happily held up the gun.

"Great," John marched over to the bed and grabbed the weapons bag from it, dropping it on the floor in front of the boy. "Now, disassemble, clean and reassemble these." The younger boy's eyes fell slightly as he took in the number of weapons in the bag. He thought Dean had cleaned most of them, he didn't know how wrong he was.

Sighing, Harry grudgingly set to his task, knowing he wasn't getting out of it. Sam and Dean smiled at each, remembering exactly what it was like when they were in Harry's position. At the time it had been miserable and Sam had even used it to show Dean how crummy their childhood was, but now it brought back fond memories. Memories of races to see who could get done faster, who could get the cleanest weapons, who didn't have to clean the dirtiest one. Plus, it was nice to see someone else in their position just as miserable as they were.

John caught the exchange. He couldn't let them get too comfortable. "Boys, dinner ain't gonna make itself." He turned back to his papers, his eyes dancing with mirth as he heard simultaneous groans. Oh yeah, he still had it.


	7. Part II: Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Salvation". I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Well, this is coming to everyone early as I'm not going to be home tonight or this weekend. That being said, next week I have several papers due and no time this weekend to do them so the likelihood of the next chapter updating on time is fairly slim. I apologize in advance but I will make every effort to get it to you as soon as possible. Thanks for everyone's comments. I'm sorry if I haven't responded but I will, its on my to-do list, I swear. This hasn't been beta'd so if there are any glaringly obvious mistakes, those are mine - well all the mistakes are mine really! Once I get the beat'd version back and I have time, I'll re-upload the chapter. Thanks to Kirallie for checking over all my work, you keep me sane and my comma obsession under control!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

The next morning, the boys woke up to their father working, the wall behind him covered in newspaper clippings, notes, and pictures taken from books as well as weather maps and forecastings. Harry tiredly rubbed his eyes, not quite awake and focusing. John knew the boy would need to learn to wake up fully no matter how much sleep he'd gotten. Thankfully last night had been nightmare free.

"Why don't you boys get some breakfast, then we'll go over everything."

Fifteen minutes later, Sam and Dean stood before their father while Harry sat next to John at the table, taking in all the time this man had put into finding this demon. It was methodical, calculating, almost scientific. Hermione would love this.

"So, this is it. This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we've been searching for this demon, right? And not a trace, just nothing….until about a year ago. For the first time, I picked up a trail." He glanced between his sons as he spoke.

"That's when you took off," Dean said, noticing where he was going.

"Yeah, that's right. The demon must have come out of hiding or hibernation."

Sam nodded and Dean began to walk around the table, staring at the colt. "All right, so, what's this trail you found?"

"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California—houses are burning down to the ground. It's going after families….just like it went after us."

Harry mulled over those words before asking, "Why?" Most things that tried to kill people had a reason for it, granted it wasn't always a good reason or even a reason most people would understand, but they had a reason none the less. Harry refused to believe this demon was killing families for kicks.

The Winchesters all turned towards Harry. John shrugged before answering. "We don't know why he's going after them..." Harry glanced at the man; something about the way he said that didn't sit well with him. John wasn't telling them everything.

"Families with infants?" Sam asked, bringing his father's attention to him and breaking Harry's concentration.

John looked down, remembering that night. "Yeah—the night of the kid's six-month birthday."

Sam shocked, shifted before asking, "I was six months old that night?" His father nodded.

"Exactly six months old."

"So, basically, this demon is goin' after these kids for some reason—the same way it came for me? So, Mom's death, Jessica—it's all 'cause of me?" Sam scoffed, sarcastically. He was getting agitated about this. Dean knew his brother felt guilty about Jess's death but Mom's too? That was going too far.

"We don't know that, Sam," Dean said sharply.

Sam pushed away from the counter angrily. "Oh, really, 'cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Dean." His brother turned to face him, ready to fight this out with him.

"For the last time, what happened to them is not your fault."

Harry interrupted again. "No Sam, he's right. It's not your fault. You weren't the one who killed your mum or your girl. You can't blame yourself for someone else's actions." He looked away for a second, softly muttering, "It's not your fault..."

"Yeah, you're right, it's not my fault, but it's my problem!" Sam shouted at the both of them, completely ignoring what his cousin and brother were saying.

"No, it's not your problem, it's _our_ problem!" Dean said heatedly.

"Okay," John said, standing up, tired of his boys arguing. "That's enough!" Sam and Dean turned away from each other while Harry just averted his eyes. John ran his hand down his face and sighed.

Sam spun around and reiterated Harry's question. "So, why is it doing it? What does it want?"

"Look, I wish I had more answers. I do. I've always been one step behind it. Look, I've never gotten there in time to save…" John looked between Harry and Sam, trying to appeal to them that he'd done all he could. Dean looked through some of the papers on the table, nodding to his cousin, hoping the kid could handle all this. Harry gave him a small smile before averting his eyes. He knew Dean was trying to protect from their world but he'd handled worse. One little demon wasn't going to scare him off so easily, not when he had a convicted felon for a godfather and a werewolf as a teacher.

"All right, so, how do we find it before it hits again?" Dean asked, attempting to bring the conversation back on track.

"There's signs. Look, it took me a while to see the pattern, but in the days before these fires, signs crop up in an area—cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked, and…"

Dean stared at his father as his brain comprehended what the older man was telling him. "These things happened in Lawrence." John nodded.

"The week before your mother died." He turned to Sam. "And in Palo Alto….before Jessica. And these signs—they're starting again." Harry sat there, listening to every word. He couldn't believe it; if only there had been signs before Voldemort struck, how many lives could they have saved? But did it really matter? Even when they did know, it hadn't saved his parents.

"Where?" Sam asked darkly.

"Salvation, Iowa."

That evening, after a long day of driving, the four of them bundled into a motel room for the night. After John revealed the next location where he predicts the demon was going to be, Sam adamantly began packing. The others let him, knowing that his drive, his need to kill the thing that took away his mother and girlfriend was controlling him right now. Sam could have driven straight through, but John couldn't and Harry didn't even know how to drive, so they were forced to pull over.

"Look Dad, I understand the need to sleep," his younger son started. "But it's only late afternoon, why are we stopping now?"

John glanced at the boy sitting next to him in the truck. They'd stopped at a sleazy motel just outside the town's limits and Dean had gone to get them a room. "As much as I don't want to do this, Harry needs to at least have an idea how to defend himself if something goes wrong. A quick lesson before we lose the light. When Dean gets back, we'll head out."

Sam nodded; he knew his father was right. Harry did need to learn, especially now with them so close to the demon. Harry hadn't spoken too much with regard to the demon, if he was nervous or scared about dealing with something pure evil.

"Okay," said Sam, before catching his cousin's eye. "You sure you want to do this? Still time to back out, we don't want—"

"She was my aunt, remember? One I'll never get to know, so yeah, I'm sure." His response was unexpected but not unwelcome. For the first time, both Sam and John recognized the thirst for vengeance of someone that was taken too soon. They'd never thought of it from Harry's point of view, that the boy had lost someone that night as well, though he'd never even known it until now.

"Okay," John said, starting the car. He nodded at his youngest before pulling away, knowing the brothers would follow him to a nearby field.

Once they arrived, they set up away from the road, putting several empty cans on a fence rail. Holding a spare gun, John took his stance before aiming and firing, hitting every can along the rail. Harry stared at him in shock. No way John expected him to be able to do that first time out, right? "First, no shooting while targets are being adjusted." Dean was already making his way over.

"Secondly," John started towards his nephew. "Your stance is very important. Keep your feet shoulder width apart, good, good...normally you'd shoot with your dominant foot leading, but in order to help with balance, you're going to shoot straight on. Now bring your hands up...yes, without the gun..." As he was speaking John was adjusting his position ever so slightly, correctly things when Harry would slip, and guiding him towards the finished stance.

Letting Harry relax, John took the gun back from Sam, reloaded. He put it in the boy's hands, "This is your safety, keep it on unless you're going to shoot. That goes for your trigger finger, rest it here unless you're taking a shoot..." He corrected the boy's hold of the weapon, then gave his last piece of advice. "Keep both eyes open. You're more likely to hit something when you can see it."

Harry didn't bother nodding. He lined up his shot down the barrel of the gun, breathed and fired. A loud shot rang out, breaking the quiet of the field. Not expecting the recoil, he stumbled a little but otherwise stayed on his feet. Looking ahead, he saw the can still resolutely sitting on the rail.

"Line up your shot and try again," John instructed.

Harry nodded before going through his head everything he'd been told. "Feet apart...shoulders relaxed...both eyes open..." Just before he fired, he felt a tingle in his fingers, like they'd been asleep and he was just now using them again.

This time, the shot hit something, the fence post to the right of the can and Harry knew. That tingle from before was magic, maybe...Without even waiting for John to instruct him to regain his stance, Harry lined everything up, breathed, then concentrated. Just as he learned to bring objects to him so long ago in the Common Room, he also could send them away. That's exactly what he was doing, sending a bullet away from him with the help of a gun, and maybe a little magic. Harry allowed the tingle to build in his fingers before thinking of nothing else except, "_Depulso_."

A loud crack split the surroundings followed by a _twang_ as the can flew off the back of the rail. He'd hit it. Harry couldn't believe it, he'd actually hit it! Stunned and smiling, he turned to face his family. Sam was openly smiling his congratulations while Dean had a look of shock and happiness plastered on his face. John simply appraised Harry for a moment before saying with slightly upturned lips, "Do it again."

After Harry had figured out the key for him being able to successfully fire a weapon, he'd hit every can, not perfectly by any means as he didn't bull's eye any of them but he'd at least hit them. He'd always been good at Defense in school, his aim never lacking so it would figure that by using a little bit of magic, his aim had improved tremendously since his first shot.

The four of them spent the next several hours, until sunset, practicing. As they were walking back to the cars, a sudden thought struck Harry. He hadn't used his wand. After Moody's nearly timed barks of "_Constant Vigilance!",_ Harry had never gone anywhere without his wand, even with his cousins and uncle; it was currently stashed down his shoe covered by his pant leg. But he hadn't used it to cast the spell. Could he do wandless magic?

As soon as they got back to the motel and every doorway had been salted, by Harry in order to teach him or so Dean said, the boy had rushed into the bathroom. Turning the lock quietly, he faced the mirror, breathing deeply. "No time like the present," he thought.

Turning he decided to use the first spell he'd ever learned, levitation. Concentrating on the roll of toilet paper, sitting on the tank of the toilet, he imagined it floating upwards, rising delicately from its resting place. He muttered, "_Wingardium_ _Leviosa_!" Nothing happened.

Harry glanced at the door; he had to hurry before they got suspicious. A little louder, he said the incantation again. The toilet paper stayed firmly fixed on the toilet. Frustrated, he practically shouted the spell. This time the paper shot into the air and fell just as quickly.

"Harry? You alright in there?" Sam asked through the door.

"Uh...fine!" He quickly flushed the toilet, putting the paper back on its perch, running his hands under the water, hoping they'd drop it and just think he was weird.

As he exited, all three Winchesters were staring at him, waiting for an explanation. Harry was unable to keep the small smile from his face so he ended up twitching his lips oddly causing the Winchesters to glance between themselves. "What?" Hopefully feigning ignorance would work.

"Why were you shouting?" Dean asked.

"Oh," blushing, Harry looked down. "I, uh had a song stuck in my head all day and just remembered the group who sang it...why?"

"Nothing," Sam interrupted, sharing a look with his father and brother. "Just sounded weird was all. We should get some sleep, we're heading out early tomorrow."

**~*~*~**

The next morning the Winchesters and Harry rose early and bundled into the two cars; Harry and John in the truck, and the brothers in the Impala. For Harry, the drive was quiet. He realized quickly that his uncle was a man of few words; he seemed content to simply be with Harry rather than talk about the large secret they were just beginning to understand. Harry for his part was just as happy to sit in silence; it allowed him plenty of time to think about how his life had changed not just since his birthday when he found out he had other relatives but also in the last couple of days, when he met said relatives. He was still scared to tell them about his magic or the people that wanted him dead. Could he trust them? Harry barely knew them, and yet he felt, he hoped, that he could. It would be nice to have that person again who cared unconditionally and would always be there, like Sirius had been. But what if something happened to them, like Sirius? Could he live through the pain again? Harry wasn't sure he could answer that question.

As Harry stared out the window at the dreary countryside that passed, the gray skies cast a depressing blanket over the fields, threatening to release the rain that was captured in its clouds. The radio played in the background softly, neither passengers paying any attention. John looked over at his nephew. Perhaps he should talk to him, get to know him. He opened his mouth to say something but at that moment his phone rang.

Harry jumped slightly as he turned to look for the obnoxious ringing. John sighed as he turned off the radio and grabbed the phone from his pocket. "Winchester."

"_Hey John." _

"Caleb?" John sat up straighter and clutched the wheel a little tighter. Harry refrained from shifting in his seat while he watched his uncle out of the corner of his eye. He kept his view on the countryside flying past, knowing this conversation wasn't for him. "Listen, I'm on—"

"_He's dead, John._"

"Who?"

"_Jim Murphy_." A sigh was heard and John could make out other voices in the background. "_A couple of us were passing through and decided to stop by. We found him in the basement, throat slashed. Andy said there's definitely sulfur residue. I thought I'd just give you a head's up. We'll see what we can do here."_

"Thanks Caleb." John clipped his phone shut and glared straight ahead, turning the truck off the road. Harry glanced at John before quickly scrambling out of the car following the older man. "Damn it."

"What is it?" Dean asked as he came towards his father. Sam looked over at Harry who shrugged his shoulders. He knew it had something to do with the call but having only heard one half of the conversation, he didn't know what it was about.

"Son of a bitch!" John slammed his hand against the bed of the truck.

"What is it?" Dean asked it again, this time more insistent. Whatever it was that set his father off was something pretty important, he rarely showed this much emotion.

"I just got a call from Caleb." That's not exactly what he expected his father to say.

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine...Jim Murphy is dead."

Sam stared at his father in shock. "Pastor Jim?" He waited for his father's nod before voicing what the brothers needed to know. "How?"

"Throat was slashed—he bled out. Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place." Dean and Sam turned away from their father, angered at their inability to help their friend. Harry glanced between the two brothers, offering them silent support.

"The demon..._The _demon?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. Could be he just got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're gettin' close." Somehow they all doubted a hunter got careless and it was more likely the Demon was onto them. Harry knew with their friend's death likely the result of the demon they were hunting that the Winchesters weren't going to let the boy out of their sight, possibly even try to send him home.

"What do you want to do?"

"Now we act like every second counts. There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, we cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's gonna be six months old in the next week." John turned to Harry. "And you are getting on a plane first thing, you hear me? I don't care what I said! It's bad enough you know about this thing; I won't have it coming after my sister too."

Harry knew it was coming and yet he still felt the anger bubble up in his chest. He glanced at Dean and Sam, hoping they'd back him up. Instead Dean looked like he would drive him there himself and Sam stared at his shoes, for once wanting to stay out of the fight with his father. Like all the other times Harry became mad, his mouth ran away from him.

"Yeah, well, it's a bit late for that!" Harry said angrily, not quite aware of what he'd revealed. "It doesn't really matter anyway!"

"What do you mean?" John asked slowly, his voice dangerously low.

Realizing his mistake, Harry attempted to backpedal, hoping the older man would buy it. "Nothing, I was just angry—" John stared the younger boy down, even though Harry had looked away and continued to stare at the road. He sighed. Harry didn't really want to talk to his uncle about this while they were on a hunt and dealing with their friend's death. He also knew that John wouldn't take no for an answer.

"The reason it doesn't really matter...it's because...because my parents are dead. They died when I was just a baby and—"

"Were they killed in your nursery?" Dean asked urgently, glancing at his brother and his father.

"No, well, my mum was, but—"

Shocked, John grabbed his nephew by the shoulders and forced him to look him in the eyes. "Fire, was there a fire?"

"No! It...wait, you think the _demon_ killed my parents?" Harry looked between the three Winchesters, reading the resolve on their faces. "No! It wasn't the demon!"

"How do you know, Harry?" Sam questioned, his brown eyes understanding. "Like you said, you were just a baby, and..."

"It wasn't the demon!" Harry shouted. "Because it was just a man; a stupid, cowardly old man! And he's gone; he's gone and he's never coming back!" Harry turned on his heal and marched into the truck, slamming the door shut behind him. The boys looked at their father who sighed heavily. John put the death of his sister out of his mind, focusing on the people he could save. He'd deal with her death when he had time to mourn her properly.

"We still go ahead as planned. This changes nothing."

Trying to diffuse the situation, Sam spoke up. "Dad, that could be dozens of kids. How the hell are we gonna know which one's the right one?

"We'll check 'em all, that's how. You got any better ideas?" answered John harshly.

"No, sir." Sam bit out before getting back in the Impala.

John started back towards his truck and stopped for a second. "Dad?" He turned to face his oldest son who was watching him carefully.

"Yeah...it's Jimand now _she's_...You know, I can't...This ends. Now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes."

John slammed the door to the truck and started it. Harry didn't even glance at his uncle and neither said a word. For the first twenty minutes, silence settled on the vehicle. The dark haired youth looked from under his fringe at the older man, noticing the pain he masked there. This wasn't easy for either of them.

"I was going to tell you," Harry began. "I just didn't know how." John continued to ignore him and his eyes stayed on the road.

"Look, I'm sorry alright! What was I supposed to say? What?" said Harry, his voice rising in anger as he went on. "I don't know, how about '_Hi, I'm your nephew you've never heard of by the sister you didn't know you had because your mother isn't our mother. Oh and by the way, both of them are dead so there's no way you could possibly meet them'_! Yes, I think that would have gone fan-bloody-tastic!" He slumped in his seat, glaring out the window.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" his uncle asked, continuing to stare straight ahead. "You had so many opportunities."

Harry glanced up beneath his fringe biting his lower lip as he gathered his thoughts. "I…I wanted…" Scrubbing his hands down his face before running them through his hair, the young boy sighed heavily. "My parents' death was widely known in certain circles. Everywhere I went, everyone I met, they knew about it and they always treated me differently. They looked at me with pity, _oh there's the little orphan boy, how sad his life must be_. Not only did they all know about their deaths but many of them knew my parents. I attended the same school as them, even had some of the same teachers. It was always, _you look just like your father but you've got your mother's eyes_. I was always compared to them, always held up to their standard, be it good or bad. Nobody saw me for me…" Harry knew he was letting his emotions get the better of him but he was sick of hiding how _he_ felt about his parents' death. Nobody had bothered to take the time to ask him and actually listen to the answer. "I just wanted to meet you and get to know you, without you feeling obligated, or needing to honor my mum's death, that someone for once would see me and not my parents.

"I know it was selfish and I should have told you sooner but at first I couldn't, I didn't want to ruin our meeting, and then stuff just got in the way and then I didn't know how to tell you or when because then I'd have to explain why I didn't tell you in the beginning. I'm sorry." Harry returned to looking out the window without actually seeing anything, lost in his thoughts.

"Who knows you're here?" John asked tiredly. He knew how hard it was for a child to talk about a parent's death; Dean doesn't talk about Mary's death unless he absolutely has to, not even with Sam. That was partly his fault he knew; in the beginning he couldn't talk about his wife's death, couldn't stand the looks of pity he got, so overtime he stopped talking about it. John couldn't imagine what it must have been like growing up constantly reminded of everything he'd lost. No wonder the boy hadn't told him the truth.

Harry sighed. "I know you probably won't believe me, but I never lied to you. I just never told you everything and can you blame me?"

"Who?" John still needed to know how much Harry had omitted. Maybe no one knew where the kid was and he was about to be arrested on kidnapping charges.

"My friends."

John nodded slowly. "You said he was gone, this man?" Harry stared straight ahead, his hands curling into fists, his knuckles turning white. Glancing down, John recognized the hatred in his nephew's eyes and knew this wasn't something he'd lie about.

"Yeah, he's gone."

"Good."

**~*~*~**

Dean and Harry entered the Salvation Hospital after dropping Sammy off at the medical clinic. The four hunters had regrouped and split up the locations between them. It was decided that Harry would go with Dean as the hospital was likely to have the most records. Harry suspected that John just needed some time to himself, especially after his revelation. He knew he would need to give his cousins the same explanation he'd given his uncle but they were likely to wait for him to come to them. Losing a parent, in Harry's case parents, was something they could all understand and knew when to steer clear of it. Dean wasn't likely to bring it up anyway, touchy-feely moments weren't his thing, but Harry figured he'd listen in when Sam tried to get him to open up.

A rather attractive brunette behind the front desk greeted them, paying particular attention to Dean. The younger boy smirked, knowing exactly what his cousin wanted to do if this wasn't a case and he wasn't there to witness it. Having never had an older sibling, he suddenly understood Ginny's pleasure in disrupting her brothers' fun. Maybe Harry could balance this overprotective thing the Winchesters had going with being able to be the obnoxious younger "sibling" every once in awhile; he could definitely have fun with this.

"Hi. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Oh, God, yes. Only I, uh...I'm working right now, kinda...oh, this is my little brother, he's been acting up lately and I'm trying to teach him a lesson. I'm working a case that involves some research so..." Dean flashed her his badge and smiled apologetically. Harry tried to squelch the swell of happiness at Dean calling him his younger brother, reminding himself that this was a job and he already had a younger brother…damn, but it still felt good.

"You want him to help you?" She looked at Harry sympathetically. "Well, what kind of research?"

"I'm going to need to see all your birth records for children turning six months old this week."

She glanced at Harry again. "You must have really messed up." He smiled impishly before she turned away. Dean watched her walk away to get the records while Harry watched him.

"You do realize if she heard my accent, she wouldn't have looked twice at you." Dean glared at the younger man good-naturedly.

"Shut up." Harry's smirk turned into a full-fledged grin; oh yeah he could definitely live with this.

As they followed the nurse, Harry felt a familiar twinge on his forehead. Panicking slightly, he subtly rubbed his head, glancing at Dean, making sure he didn't notice. The older man would probably have a coronary if he knew his younger cousin was having visions. He pushed it out of his head. That's over, Tom's dead. No more visions, no more connections. It was just a headache over the amount of work ahead.

**~*~*~**

Harry couldn't believe it! They were back, the visions were back. After several hours of research, they'd gone through all the birth certificates the hospital had for all children born six months ago this week. Dean had decided to take it easy on him and not make him do all the work in order to keep up appearances but Harry still did a lot of the work. He suddenly felt bad for all the times Hermione had been the one they'd relied on to do the research, though to be fair, she actually liked doing research and it was a known fact he and Ron were rubbish at it. As they were packing up and Dean was talking to Nurse Cindy about maybe getting together later in the week when he was free, Harry felt the beginnings of a vision. It had twinged on and off the entire time they'd been working but Harry had ignored it. This time, he couldn't.

After glancing at Dean, Harry quickly made for the bathroom, locking the door behind him, when suddenly it was upon him. He crumbled to the floor, grasping his head in pain as images flew through his mind like an unfinished movie reel hastily put together, disregarding sequence or background information. It only lasted a few minutes as far as he could tell but he was able to retain more of it than any of the visions he'd received from Voldemort. Unlike the others, he'd been conscious of the pain while the vision as happening as opposed to afterward and it didn't play like a coherent scene. Gasping, the vision subsided and he felt the throbbing in his temples recede to a dull ache. Harry began to go over the images. He'd seen a woman and a baby's room and a house. It wasn't much but normally his visions left him with just a vague sense of something rather than faces or locations. He heard banging on the door and Dean calling his name. Scrambling up, Harry took a deep breath to slow his heart rate and gather himself.

"Just a minute," he called. Harry checked himself in the mirror, splashing water on his face. "Pull it together, mate." Deciding he was decent, he pulled open the door, face to face with Dean.

"You alright, man?" he asked, trying to appear offhanded. Dean eyed him surreptitiously, taking in the water dripping from his hair and the way he seemed a little tense. "You were in there awhile."

"Fine, just had to use the loo," he responded as evenly as he could. Dean raised his eyebrows.

"So that's what the kids are calling it these days." The older man covered up his worry like he always did, with a joke. Unlike Sam though, Harry hadn't been with him long enough to realize this. Dean would figure out what was bothering him, even if he had to kick his ass to do it. Sammy learned long ago to just tell Dean what he wanted to know – it was easier and less painful in the long run – Harry would learn to given time.

Harry took in his knowing smirk. He shook his head, walking away not saying anything. Dean just followed, laughing. Harry couldn't tell Dean, he couldn't tell him he may be connected to a demon. He might think the vampire was right, that the darkness really was within him. Harry shook his head. Besides how did he know if that woman was even the one they were looking for? It probably wasn't. They looked through hundreds of records; she may not even live here…Right, like his luck was that good.


	8. Part II: Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Salvation". I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Ummm, I'm so sorry for the incrediably late update. Let's just say life got a hold of me and refused to let go for a bit. I've still got about two and half weeks of school left, including finals so updates might be slow but over break I plan on writing several parts. I want to thank everyone who has reviewed; I've gotten behind in responding to them but I'm hoping that break will give me the time I need to get back on track. Also mega thanks to Kirallie for betaing this for me and helping me layout the rest of the story. I hope everyone had an awesome Thanksgiving who celebrates it; I was in Berlin and had bad chinese food, unfortunately. The Christmas markets were nice though...

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

***~*~***

After looking through all the files the medical clinic had for six month old children, Sam decided to head for the motel where the family was staying. He was looking over his notes when the vision first hit him. _A child's room._ Squeezing his eyes shut, Sam shook his head, praying this wasn't happening now. _A clown in a red and blue suit with yellow baubles on his hat. _He pressed his hands into his forehead, trying to stave off the pain that was building behind his eyes. _A woman with long dark hair rocking her baby, smiling as she brushed her child's cheek. She laid the baby in the crib when she glanced up suddenly, looking for something in the dark. _Sam took deep breaths, watching the people around him, hoping they weren't noticing his actions. The pain hadn't receded yet, and he didn't think it was over. _The woman pulled back the curtains, peering out into the night as a train sounded in the distance. _

"Train..." Shaking off the last vestiges of the vision, Sam pulled a map from his bag, opening it as quickly as he could without ripping it. He ran his finger along the train tracks and tapped the map. Folding it as he went, Sam headed for the street of the woman in his vision.

After several minutes of walking, Sam came upon the house from his vision. It was a white split level with lace curtains blowing in the windows on the second story above the doorway. Glancing down the street, he saw a woman pushing a baby carriage, balancing an umbrella and groceries. Sam's long legs carried him quickly to the other side. Smiling gently, he reached the woman just as she was closing the umbrella, keeping the carriage from rolling away. "Here, let me hold that. You don't need that anymore."

The brunette smiled at him, laughing slightly. "Thanks."

Sam looked down into the carriage, smiling at the pink-coated little girl who was chewing happily on some plastic keys. "She's gorgeous, is she yours?"

"Yeah," the mother said proudly. The group continued walking up the street.

"Oh wow. Hi," Sam added to the content child. He shook his head, seemingly remembering his manners. "I'm sorry, I'm rude. I'm Sam. I just moved in up the block with my family."

"Oh hey, I'm Monica and this is Rosie."

"Rosie?" Sam asked. Monica smiled, nodding. "Hi Rosie."

"So, welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thank you, my brothers and my dad are out running some errands. She's such a good baby," Sam added trying to steer the conversation back towards the people from his vision.

"I know. I mean, she never cries. She just stares at everybody. Sometimes she looks at you, and I swear, it's like she's reading your mind." Sam's slight smile came out more of a grimace but Monica didn't seem to notice.

"What about you Monica? Have you lived here long?"

"My husband and I bought our place just before Rosie was born."

"How old is Rosie?"

"Uh, she's six months today." Sam's face fell and his warm brown eyes held sadness as the news settled upon him. Monica continued, misinterpreting his look. "It's big, right? Growin' like a weed."

"Yeah," said Sam, glancing painfully down at Rosie. Uncomfortable silence enveloped them and Monica watched Sam uneasily. The young man looked up at the young mother. "Monica?"

"Yeah?"

"Just take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah, you too Sam. See you around." Monica began pushing Rosie again and Sam slowly walked away. A car honked at them. "Oh, there's Daddy."

Sam watched the small family embrace sadly. Visions began to assault him and he gripped his head in pain. _The clock in the nursery stopped and the mobile began swinging gently. Monica entered the nursery wearing a long white nightgown but faltered when she saw a figure bathed in shadow beside the crib. "What are you?" The figure turned and Monica flew to the wall before slowly ascending to the ceiling. "Rosie! Rosie!" Blood began to drip onto the crying baby as the nursery went up in flames. _

**~*~*~**

"A vision?" John asked as he sat with Dean and Harry on the beds, watching Sam at the table, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Yes. I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling," he said clearly and distinctly, frustrated at his father questioning him again.

"And you think it's gonna happen to this woman you met because….?" John said slowly, trying to keep the tension or anger from leaking into his voice.

"Because these things happen exactly the way I see them." John sighed and stared ahead thinking. Dean knew the pair of them were holding it together for now but this revelation was eating at his father and the man was not known for holding his temper.

"It started out as nightmares, and then he started havin' them when he was awake," Dean said as he began pacing the room. Harry kept his eyes firmly fixed on the book he was studying. John tended to give him a book to read whenever they talked about the demon. Harry guessed he thought if he kept him occupied, he wouldn't pay attention to them. However, he'd quickly learned at both the Dursely's and Hogwarts how to appear busy while not doing anything.

So Sam had the same vision, huh? Maybe it had nothing to do with any connection, maybe it was a family thing. Harry thought about telling them that he'd had the same vision until Sam spoke.

"Yeah. It's like the closer I get to anything involving the demon, the stronger the visions get." Harry closed his mouth. It wasn't family, Sam had a reason. The demon had attacked his family, his girl. But Harry, he had no reason to see this. He decided not to mention anything about his visions. It wasn't like they had helped in the past; perhaps it'd be best if he tried occlumency again while figuring out why they were back. As far as he knew, the visions were connected to Tom and he was dead. Everything was gone after the Final Battle, his parseltongue, his visions, his mood swings, everything. And yet he had a vision. Granted it was different than the others, almost a second-hand vision, only parts of it came through. But who was he receiving it from and why?

"All right, when were you gonna tell me about this?" The question Harry from his musings and he glanced at his family through his fringe. Both Sam and Dean looked up at their father's words, surprise clearly expressed on their faces.

"We didn't know what it meant," Dean said in explanation.

"All right, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone, and you call me." Harry hadn't known the family for long but somehow he doubted that was the right thing to say based on the boys' expressions. He pulled the book up further and kept his eyes down. He didn't have to wait long before Dean's angered voice rang through the room.

"Call you? Are you kiddin' me? Dad, I called you from Lawrence, all right? Sam called you when I was dying. Gettin' you on the phone—I've got a better chance of winnin' the lottery," the oldest son explained harshly as he rounded on his father. Harry wondered what Dean meant about dying; Sam calling their father indicated that they'd known for some time that Dean was dying so how had he survived? Harry felt his stomach clench as he thought about hsi cousin dying. Finding out he had family but finding them to late to meet them had kept him up at night during the months after his birthday. Shaking his head of those thoughts, he glanced at his uncle. Surprisingly, John looked genuinely chastised.

"You're right." Dean nodded slowly, not quite sure he understood where his father was going with this. Conceding this early wasn't something John did, especially after getting yelled at by one of his sons."Although I'm not real crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right. I'm sorry." Harry lowered the book and glanced between the three men. Dean was still staring at his father; John was watching Sam who was staring ahead of himself.

"Look, guys, visions or no visions, the fact is, we know the demon is coming tonight. And this family's gonna go through the same hell that we went through," the youngest Winchester said quietly.

"No they're not," John said, looking into his son's warm brown eyes. "No one is, ever again."

A tinny whining sound filled the cabin. Sam picked up his phone avoiding eye contact with his father. "Hello?"

"_Sam?_"

"Who is this?" Sam asked, the female voice sounded familiar.

"_Think real hard. It'll come to you."_

"Meg." Sam sat straighter. Dean and John wandered closer to the conversation while Harry put his book down, not even bothering to pretend anymore, it's not like they were really going to drop what they were doing to chastise him.

"Harry out," John said softly without turning around. Glaring harshly, the young boy slammed the book closed and scooted off the bed towards the doors, making his unpleasant departure known. What they didn't know was that a door wasn't likely to keep a wizard out. Pulling an extendable ear from his pocket he fed it under the door.

"...saw you, you fell out of a window."

"_Yeah, thanks to you. That really hurt my feelings, by the way._"

"Just your feelings? That was a seven-story drop."

"_Let me speak to your dad._"

"My dad—I don't know where my dad is."

"_It's time for the grown-ups to talk, Sam. Let me speak to him, now_." There was a shuffle as Sam gave John the phone; Harry leaned closer to the door, careful not to bump it lest they hear him.

"This is John."

"_Howdy, John. I'm Meg. I'm a friend of your boys. I'm also the one who watched Jim Murphy choke on his own blood._ _Still there, John boy?_" Harry clenched his fists tightly to keep from hitting something. She was just like Bella. This woman enjoyed hurting people but more importantly hurting their loved ones when she gloated about it. Although, Harry could hear the difference in her voice; Meg wasn't crazy.

"I'm here."

"_Well, that was yesterday. Today, I'm in Lincoln….visiting another old friend of yours. He wants to say hi."_

Another voice was heard coming from the phone, this time male. "_John, whatever they do, don't give—_"

"Caleb? Caleb. You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. Let him go." Harry heard the desperation in his uncle's voice under the demanding tone and frustration.

"_We know you have the Colt John_."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"_Oh. Okay. So, listen to this._" A slashing sound was heard just before the man began gasping for air, his own blood blocking his airway, gurgling as he tried to stay alive. Harry closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose to control his breathing. Even after being surrounded by death his entire life, he was still affected by it. It was still a shock to his system when he had to see or hear someone die. Listening to Hermione being tortured was bad enough but at least she was alive afterwards; this woman killed a man, Caleb, he hadn't done anything and she'd killed him. _Kill the spare_. Swallowing, Harry pushed the cold voiced from his head and focused on the conversation on the other side of the door.

"Caleb? Caleb."

"_You_ _hear that? That's the sound of your friend dying. Now let's try this again. We know you have the gun, John. Word travels fast. So, as far as we're concerned, you just declared war. And this is what war looks like—it has casualties._"

"I'm gonna kill you, you know that?"

"_Oh, John, please. Mind your blood pressure. So, this is the thing—we're gonna keep doing what we're doing, and your friends, anyone who has ever helped you, gave you shelter, anyone you ever loved—they'll all die unless you give us that gun. I'm waiting, Johnny. Better answer before the buzzer._"

"Okay."

"_Sorry, didn't quite get that._"

"I said okay; I'll bring you the Colt."

"_There's a warehouse in Lincoln, on the corner of Wabash and Lake. You're gonna meet me there._"

"It's gonna take me about a day's drive to get there."

"_Meet me there at midnight tonight._"

"That's impossible. I can't get there in time, and I can't just carry a gun on a plane."

"Oh. Then I guess your friends die, don't they? If you do decide to make it, come alone." The phone snapped shut and Harry heard his uncle sigh in frustration. He began putting the extendable ear away and slowly turned the knob on the door.

"...think Meg is a demon?" Sam was asking. Dean and his brother were both looking at their father who had his back to the door, so they either didn't notice or didn't care about Harry's entrance.

"Either that or she's possessed by one. It doesn't really matter." The door slipped through Harry's hand and it closed harder than he intended. The resulting smack alerted the Winchesters to his presence; they took in his angered expression.

"Yes it does," he countered heatedly. "Look, it may not seem like there's a difference when the end result is the same but there is. That girl is just an innocent pawn in the demons' game; it's not her fault she's possessed. " Harry glanced away and the others knew there was more to story but they didn't have time to ask about it, especially not with the new timeline Meg imposed.

"What do we do?" asked Dean, trying to diffuse the situation, eyeing his cousin who had resumed his seat on the bed. He knew his father wasn't pleased that Harry was back in the room but he couldn't really send him out again.

"I'm going to Lincoln," John said resignedly.

"What?" Dean stepped forward while Sam and Harry sat up a little in concern.

"It doesn't seem like I have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people die. Our friends die." Harry nodded resolutely; proud of the stance his uncle was taking, before looking at his cousins and seeing they were not happy with this plan.

"Dad, the demon is coming tonight for Monica and her family. That gun is all we've got. You can't just hand it over," Sam responded heatedly.

"Who said anything about handing it over? Look, besides us and a couple vampires, no one's really seen the gun. No one knows what it looks like," John replied evenly. Harry thought it was pretty sound and well thought out, except the part where John goes alone. Harry cleared his throat but Dean spoke first.

"So, what, you're just gonna pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?"

"Antique store," John amended.

"You're gonna hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?"

"Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference."

"Yeah, but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?" Harry could hear the frustration in Dean's voice and knew Sam was barely keeping his from showing. His uncle however, his face was stoic, set, and resolute; nothing and no one was going to change his mind.

"I just—I just need to buy a few hours, that's all."

"You mean for Dean and me. You want us to stay here….and kill this demon by ourselves?" Sam asked, trying to keep everything from spilling from him into his father's face, all the hurt, all the anger, the regret, the fear, the abandonment.

"No, Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home. I want Mary alive. I just….I just want this to be over." Harry saw the glance that Dean and Sam shared, knowing they'd accept that and nothing else from their father. He could understand the need for things to end, for the war to simply stop so they could finally live. He wanted his family to have that, the feeling of freedom, of completeness, of resolution, like he had after Voldemort was killed. For a little while, there was no fear, no anxiety, no having to always look behind him; he could simply breathe for a bit and live.

His mind made up, Harry nodded to himself. "I'm going with you."

"What?" John said confused, his voice thick with emotion.

"I'm going with you," Harry repeated, scooting off the bed and hurrying around to his bag, shoving clothes and books in without any thought. He would be able to sort them out on the drive, though it was unlikely that he'd get much research done in the truck. He'd probalby go through spells that would work. His wand was his only line of defense and they hadn't exaclty covered demons in defense class, though stunners and expelliarmus might slow them down enough for Harry to apparate him and John away. That was assuming that John was close enough to grab and that he didn't splich them in the process. Granted he'd also have to expalin his magic to the man but he'd be alive at least.

"No, Harry," John said, not even moving from his stance. His voice was even, calm, like it had been all evening. He didn't sound mad or upset, simply firm. "You're not." Those four words stopped the young boy in his tracks. All thoughts of spells flew from his mind as he tried to understand what was said.

"Why not?" Harry countered. "You need backup or at least someone to call the boys if something happens and you said I couldn't do anything with regards to the demon. I'm getting away from the demon, just like you want."

"This isn't what I meant and you know it," John said, anger seeping in a little. This was just like with Sam, everything was a battle. John felt like the majority of the time he's talked to Harry, they've fought. The boy just didn't understand, didn't know the risks of fighting demons. "We had a deal remember?" Harry glared at his bag in frustration. "I don't send you home so long as you listen."

"Right," Harry bit out. "Of course I remember...but you don't understand! I'm not some child who's afraid of the dark. I want to help! I can help! I can d—" He broke off his sentence on the verge of revealing his biggest secret. It was one thing for them to accept that he knew about the supernatural and magic; it was quite another for them to accept that he was part of it. While he was considering telling them about magic before, Harry wanted to do it in the privacy of the truck after carefully choosing his words, not throwing them out in a moment of anger.

"Do what?" John asked his eyes guarded as he questioned his nephew.

"Nothing," Harry responded stoically. "I can do nothing." He couldn't tell them, not yet, not like this. They didn't know him, he didn't know them. He'd only met them a few days ago. Harry trusted them but only so far and not with this, not until he knew for sure what they would do with the news. Given the current situation and the failry obvious trap set for John, his revelation might be more of a hindrance than a help.

John knew he was lying, knew Harry was about to reveal something about himself. The boy was so closed, so secretive. For everything he'd told them about his life, there was so much he hadn't told them. John felt as though for every step forward, he'd take two steps back. The problem was he didn't have the time or the patience to deal with his nephew's secrets. Not now, not with the demon so close.

Sam and Dean watched the exchange quietly, not wanting to get in the middle of their cousin and their father. While both privately agreed John needed backup, they were against Harry going with him, and they'd be very vocal about that if it came down to it.

Glancing between the three older men and seeing the resolve etched into their faces, Harry huffed in frustration before throwing his bag down beside him. He stomped over to the door and slammed it shut behind him. He didn't really know where he was going but walking had always helped him when he was angry or frustrated, gave him time to think. Harry turned left once he got outside and walked along the rows of rooms in their motel.

It just wasn't fair! He was seventeen, an adult in the eyes of the wizarding world. After the fiasco at the ministry, Dumbledore had listened and talked to him, treated him as an equal. He'd gotten used to people taking his advice, to letting him lead them. Now he was back to where he was two years ago.

Turning right, he began to circle the parking lot. He was angry at his family but he wished they wouldn't worry. They already did that enough. They watched him when he ate and how much, making sure he got enough sleep and that he didn't have nightmares, protected him from vampires and keeping demons from knowing about him. They cared about him. Harry stopped and stared at the door. They cared about him, not the Boy-Who-Lived or James' son or Dumbledore's Golden Child but him, Harry Potter. They cared for him in ways that families should, just like he'd always wanted when he was with the Weasely's, like he should have been at the Dursley's.

Harry felt his wand under his sock against his leg. He knew he couldn't tell them about his magic, not now. It was too soon and they had enough to deal with. However for the first time in his life, he felt hope bubble up in his chest trusting that when he told them, it would be okay.

Sighing, Harry slowly walked back to the room just as the door opened. His uncle threw his things in the backseat of the truck while Dean and Sam were pulling on their coats. John looked up when Harry drew close enough. Their eyes locked and no words were said. Nodding, John motioned towards the passenger door and Harry smiled as he hopped in. No words were exchanged but then, no words were needed.

**~*~*~**

They'd been driving for about a half hour when John stopped beside an old wooden set of raised train tracks. Harry had been squeezed between John and Sam for the trip but was surprisingly not uncomfortable. Sam's long legs got most of the legroom below their seat but Harry didn't mind; he was with his family.

Jumping out of the car, Harry followed Sam around to the bed of the truck where John stowed his weapons cache. He'd never seen so many muggle weapons preserved and organized. The scary part was that all these weapons had probably been used within the last year at least. John began pulling things out of his coat pockets and putting them away while taking other things out to have on his person.

The rumble of the Impala was heard behind them. Sam and Harry turned as Dean coasted to a stop behind the truck while John finished closing his trunk. Dean climbed out and wandered over.

"Did you get it?" The oldest son reached into his coat and pulled out a paper bag, handing it to his father. John took it out, inspecting it against his memory of the real Colt.

"You know this is a trap, don't you?" Dean asked, breaking the silence. "That's why Meg wants you to come alone."

"I can handle her. I got a whole arsenal loaded—holy water, Mandaic amulets—"

"Dad..." Dean began, stopping his father.

"What?"

"Promise me something."

"What's that?"

"This thing goes south, just get the hell out. Don't get yourself killed, all right? You're no good to us dead." John nodded, glancing at Sam and Harry catching their eyes.

"Same goes for you. All right, listen to me." John pulled the real Colt from his coat pocket, showing it to the boys. "They made the bullets special for this Colt. There's only four of 'em left. Without 'em, this gun is useless. You make every shot count."

"Yes sir," Sam said tightly.

"I been waiting a long time for this fight. Now it's here, and I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you boys now. It's your fight. You finish this. You finish what I started. You understand?" Dean and Sam held their father's eye, making it clear without words they understood exactly what he was saying. Harry just nodded his head, knowing he couldn't really say anything. John handed Dean the gun who pocketed it quickly.

"Wait," Harry called. Pulling a knife from his back pocket, he took the fake Colt from John. He placed it on the hood, and shielding it from view, began to carve. When Harry was done, he turned, smiling, and gave the gun back, putting his knife back in his pocket. John looked down and saw a pentagram carved into the handle. He glanced up at the young boy. Harry shrugged before saying. "Make it more believable. Thought it might help..." John smiled at him before putting the gun in his pocket.

"I bet it will."

"And here," Harry handed him one of the old DA coins. Harry, Ron and Hermione had used them to practice the portus charm in order to make portkeys without the ministry's knowledge. Hermione had found a way to activate them only when the person holding it was in danger. He'd taken a few when he'd gone searching for his family. He wasn't sure the magic would work on a muggle. When his relatives had fled Privat Drive, they'd apparated with other wizards and he hadn't met too many muggles who knew about magic enough to portkey. He was hoping that the spell would work; it would certainly ease his worries when they tried to leave him alone on hunts in the future. He knew they'd eventually let up on the worry but until then it would be an uphill battle.

John turned the coin over in his hands, looking at it curiously. It had a strange picture on the front and numbering around the outer edge. It looked like a gold coin from a medieval age yet felt light as a feather. John glanced at his nephew questioningly.

"It's for luck," the young boy responded. John nodded in understanding before slipping the coin into his pocket.

Sam took a deep breath, "We'll see you soon Dad."

Smiling and nodding, John clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Thanks for the coin. I'll see yo later." He caught his sons' eyes and headed towards his truck door. The three boys watched at the truck drove off into the rain.

"Later," Dean muttered.


	9. Part II: Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Salvation". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** While this chapter hasn't been beta'd, I wanted to post it in honor of my being home and completely finished with finals!!! That being said, I will be writing a lot over this holiday break and hope to get several parts written. Big thank you to everyone who has read and/or reviewed this story, I greatly appreciate it. Also thanks to my beta Kirallie for helping me get the next parts of the story ready for writing.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

Sam, Dean and Harry had returned to the motel to grab most of their things and grab dinner. Silence gripped the table as the three boys ate their meal lost in their own thoughts. Dean hadn't even looked twice at their twenty-something waitress with more cleavage than common sense. Sam was chewing his food thoughtfully, probably unaware of what exactly he was eating whereas Harry had even less of an appetite than normal, feeling as though he'd puke if he ate more than Dean's glare would allow.

"You know, mate," Harry said, throwing down his fork, huffing in anger as Dean none-too-subtly pushed his half-empty plate back across the table. "I'd eat more if this food didn't taste like micro-waved cardboard deep-fried in lard!"

Sam's rhythmic chewing paused and he looked down at his own plate. Grimacing slightly, he too pushed the plate away. "He's got a point, Dean. This place wasn't one of our better decisions."

His older brother refused to accept defeat however. This conversation was thankfully distracting Sam and Harry from the evening ahead and he wasn't too keen on it ending. "It's not that bad…I mean, we've had worse…_Dad_ could have cooked!"

Sam snorted while Harry smiled genuinely for the first time since John had left. Dean smirked before his stomach rebelled at the thought of continuing this travesty of a meal. He decided to throw in the towel, er napkin. He signaled their waitress for the check, noticing for the first time her definite potential for after hunt relief.

His green eyes glazing over dreamily, Harry sighed wistfully. "What I wouldn't give for a dinner from school…" Seeing Sam's look of confusion, the younger boy elaborated. "Boarding school, I went to boarding school where all of our meals were prepared for us and someone else cleaned our rooms and made our beds. And the beds! Oh, the beds were brilliant! Huge four-posters with the most amazingly soft sheets and curtains you could close when Seamus wouldn't bloody shut up about that Ravenclaw who wouldn't even give him the time of day. I miss those beds…"

The brothers exchanged incredulous looks before staring down their younger cousin. Harry was having them on, no way was his school _that_ good, right? He took in their looks and returned them with a piercing one of his own. "Boarding school, I went to a exclusive public boarding school."

"Wow, our aunt must have loved you a lot to spend that much on your education," Sam said, his voice tinged slightly with jealously at Harry's apparently better educational environment. Harry, for his part, was able to contain his snort of skepticism at the thought of his aunt loving him, let alone spending money on him and tried to keep his voice as even as possible.

"Aunt Petunia didn't pay for my school," he explained. "My parents did. My aunt and uncle sent their son to Uncle Vernon's alma mater, Sme—"

"Wait," Dean interrupted, holding up a hand. "We have another cousin?" Harry stared at them shocked. Hadn't he told them about Aunt Petunia's family? He was sure…he must have…Their blank looks seemed to indicate otherwise.

"I guess it just slipped my mind," Harry responded weakly.

"Ya think!"

"Well, it's not as though I meant to not tell you! I just don't often talk about my relatives," Harry argued. "We don't have the best relationship."

"So what are their names?"asked Sam, trying to stall the fight brewing between his brother and his cousin. He suddenly understood how Dean felt whenever he had to step between him and their dad.

"My uncle, er our uncle's name is Vernon, Vernon Dursley. He and Aunt Petunia have one son, Dudley," the younger boy explained, looking gratefully at Sam.

"Dudley?" Dean questioned, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. "Our cousin's name is Dudley Dursley. Please tell me he goes by something else."

"Well, they're not much better," Harry cautioned.

"A middle name maybe," Sam tried, hoping his aunt and uncle hadn't been that cruel to name their son _Dudley_. Harry got a rather nasty smile on his face at Sam's words and he felt his stomach drop.

"It's Algernon, Uncle Vernon's father's name." The three boys shared looks with each other before the entire table burst into laughter. It was as though someone had released all the tension in the diner. For just a few minutes they could laugh about their cousin's horrible name and not worry about their father or what was going to happen tonight.

After their short-lived meal, the brothers split up with Harry going with Dean to follow the family around in case the Demon showed up early. They had to be sure neither of the parents realized they were there and called the cops, not that they couldn't have gotten out of it, but it would have made their job a lot harder that evening.

**~*~*~**

The boys had been sitting in front of the house for the past two hours, watching as Monica and her husband bustled around the kitchen, setting the table and overall enjoying each other's company. There were many smiles and chaste kisses exchanged, laughter floated out to the three boys sitting in the dark, cold Impala down the street.

"Maybe we tell them there's a gas leak. Might get 'em out of the house for a few hours," Sam suggested as the couple began cleaning up from dinner.

Dean seemed to consider it before commenting, "Yeah, and how many times has that actually worked for us?" Sam sighed in acceptance that his vision was going to come true.

Harry looked between the two brothers, keeping his mouth shut. He was all for trying to get the young couple out of the house before this went pearshaped but he knew next to nothing about demons and he was lucky they hadn't locked him in the motel for the night, which he knew Dean had considered. Thankfully he'd never had to worry about people not knowing what was out there; he'd only ever worked with wizards and the few muggles he knew and affected by the war already knew about magic to begin with. Harry couldn't even offer to erase their memories, not being nearly proficient enough with the spell to not worry about leaving them with no memory and he didn't think it wise to leave them unprotected if anything ever came after them again. Magic, for all its perks, had some serious limitations.

"Could always tell them the truth," said Sam. They shared a knowing look; even Harry didn't think this was a good idea.

"Nah."

"I know. I know, I know. I just—with what's coming for these people—"

"Sam, we've only got one move, and you know it, all right? We've got to wait for that demon to show itself, and then we get it before it gets them."

"I wonder what Dad's doing now," Sam pondered aloud, glancing over at Dean.

"I'd feel a lot better if we were there backin' him up. And don't even say it, Harry," Dean added before the bespectacled boy had a chance to defend himself. Harry rolled his eyes, not even dignifying him with a response. He still thought he would be better served helping John but until he trusted them enough with his secret, they weren't going to let him near a fight with a demon.

"I'd feel a lot better if he were here backin' _us_ up," finished Sam, ignoring Dean's comment to their cousin.

**~*~*~**

Harry realized a long time ago that if someone doesn't think you're listening, they're more likely to speak freely around you. His aunt and uncle often treated him as though he weren't there, though the majority of their conversations weren't about anything he particularly wanted to know. His little skill had come in useful at Hogwarts though, especially during second year. So as it got steadily darker and the hours wore on, he'd "fallen asleep" in the backseat while the brothers watched the house. He knew the only reason they weren't riding his ass about it was they wanted him out of it for as long as possible. Harry knew they'd wake him when something started happening but this way the time went by faster, for him at least.

After dinner, the family had stayed up for another few hours. Dean and Sam had been mostly silent throughout the whole affair, watching the neighbors' houses and any people that were out late. Once, Harry swore Dean was going to jump some poor old lady walking her Pekinese after they'd gotten too close to the Impala on the sidewalk. Thankfully, fake badges and friendly smiles go a long way to appease seventy year old ladies, but the little furball was a bit harder. It was only after Sam offered it one of Dean's peanut M&M's that it quit yapping.

"I hope it chokes," Dean muttered as the pair walked away. Harry and Sam shared a smile behind Dean's back before he threw an empty wrapper at them.

About an hour after the Pekinese and her owner left, Sam spoke, breaking the silence. "This is weird."

"What?" Dean asked, glancing at his brother before returning his gaze to the house.

"After all these years, we're finally here. It doesn't seem real." After everything they'd been through, after everyone they'd lost, either through death as their mom and Jess were or through friendships never realized, it would finally end. It would all be worth it if they finally killed the demon that had destroyed their family and apparently so many others.

"We just got to keep our heads and do our jobs like always," Dean said, not letting the moment get the better of him until it was over.

"Yeah, but this isn't like always," Sam persisted.

"True."

"Dean, uh..." Sam turned to watch Harry for a moment, who remembered to keep his breathing even. After doing this for years starting when he was young in his cupboard all the way to Hogwarts, he'd mostly perfected his act. It appeared to pass Sam's scrutiny because he turned back to the front. "I want to thank you."

"For what?" Harry could tell Dean was genuinely confused about what Sam wanted to talk to him about and it made him think of Ron and Hermione. They may know each other better than anyone but sometimes the simplest things escaped them.

"For everything. You've always had my back, you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone, I could always count on you. And now….I don't know, I just wanted to let you know—just in case."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, are you kiddin' me?" Dean glanced back, making sure his outburst hadn't woken up Harry. The only problem with the younger boy's plan, however, was that it was late and he really was tired. Thankfully his older cousin had woke him up but this wasn't something he thought he should be privy to. It was about as comfortable as watching Ron and Hermione dance around each other sixth year, though for entirely different reasons. He didn't think Sam and Dean felt that way about each other, or if they did, he didn't want to know about it.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Don't say, 'Just in case somethin' happens to you', I don't wanna hear that freakin' speech, man. Nobody's dyin' tonight. Not us, not that family, nobody—except that demon. That evil son of a bitch ain't gettin' any older than tonight, you understand me?" Both men turned back to the house while Harry lifted his eyes and looked at them beneath his dark lashes and smiled. Being the one that was expected to be the savior, Harry could understand Dean's words and agreed with them perfectly. It was a nice feeling, that he himself didn't have to say it, nor was he expected to.

**~*~*~**

John had arrived at the warehouse a little before midnight and searched the warehouse, looking for a backdoor, and laying traps for the demons in case something went wrong. He knew the demons wanted to split him and his boys up, divide and conquer and all that. Hopefully this would give the boys the chance they needed to end this once and for all. Although he'd promised Dean he'd get the hell out of Dodge alive, he wasn't above dying if it meant saving their lives.

The experienced hunter wandered into the warehouse taking in the blond standing before him. Her eyes sparkled when they saw John and she smirked. "John, you made it. Too bad, really. I was hoping to kill more of your friends."

"Sorry to disappoint," he responded gruffly.

"I can see where your boys get their good looks. But I must admit, considering what they say about you, I thought you'd be….taller." John stared at her until she continued "Well, aren't you the chatty one? You wanna get to business? Fine. Why don't you hand over the gun?"

"If I give you the gun, how do I get out of here?" John asked evenly, trying to stall for time and give his boys a few more minutes.

"Well, if you're as good as they say you are, I'm sure you'll figure something out," Meg countered without missing a beat.

"Maybe I'll just shoot you."

"You wanna shoot me, baby? Go ahead. It won't end anything. There's more where I came from." A figure stepped from the shadows and drew John's eye away from the sarcastic blond in front of him.

"Who the hell's that?"

"He's not nearly as much fun as I am, I can tell you that. So, I suggest you give us the gun. Now!" John pulled the gun from his pocket and handed it over steadily, keeping his face completely void of emotions. "This is the Colt? What do you think?" Giving it to the man beside her, he examined it carefully before turning it on Meg. A shot rang out in the empty warehouse loudly. "You shot me! I can't believe you just shot me!"

"It's a fake." The man throws away the gun and both demons turn angry eyes on John.

"You're dead, John. Your boys are dead," Meg said furiously, advancing on John as she did so.

He kept the two demons in his sights, backing away slowly. "I never used the gun. How could I know it wouldn't work?" he tried to reason.

Unfortunately, Meg wasn't willing to listen to reason. "I'm so not in the mood for this. I've just been shot!"

"Well, then, I guess you're lucky the gun wasn't real," John quipped.

"That's funny, John. We're gonna strip the skin from your bones, but that was funny," she said smiling. Meg glanced at the other man and John took his chance. He ran towards a door and locked it behind him. Pulling up a trapdoor from the floor, John shimmied down the ladder and hurried towards a faucet he'd found earlier.

John turned and opened the faucet, unleashing the water at full force towards the two trailing demons. They stopped in surprise before continuing on with confident looks. After a few steps, the man's shoes began to sizzle and he screamed in pain; he hurried back to the grate and Meg. They looked on fear and anger.

"Holy water, John, real cute."

Smiling, John turned and left the demons in the warehouse, glaring and following his retreat with revenge in their eyes. He hurried towards his truck but felt his stomach drop out from under him. His tires were slashed. It appeared he wasn't the only who'd been busy before the meeting; now he knew where the man had been prior to his entrance. "Damn it."

**~*~*~**

"Dad's not answering," Dean muttered as he hung up his phone. He glanced towards the house where a light was still on in the room that Sam said was the nursery.

"Maybe Meg was late. Maybe cell reception's bad."

"Yeah, well..." Dean responded uncertainly. Harry had been drifting between awake and asleep in the backseat, his exhaustion getting to him. He would jerk awake at every subtle movement and sound the brothers made before drifting back to sleep. Harry listened to their conversation as he raised his head slightly to see the house better.

"Dean, wait. Listen." The radio began to crackle. Sam fiddled with the knobs and couldn't get a signal. Looking outside, the lights of the house began flickering and the wind picked up speed, throwing twigs and leaves into the Impala. "It's coming."

"Harry!" Dean shouted. The dark haired youth sprang up, no sleep in his eyes. "Stay here!" He'd barely nodded his head before they were out of the car, heading towards the house. Dean quickly picked the lock and he and his brother entered the dark, quiet house. From the side room, Monica's husband entered, swinging a baseball bat, nearly hitting Dean and striking a lamp.

"Get out of my house! Get out of my house!" Using the bat as leverage, Dean was able to hold the man against the wall.

"Mr. Holt please," Sam tried to calm the situation.

"Be quiet and listen to me. We're trying to help you, okay?" Dean said calmly, not loosening his grip on the bat until the man relented.

"Charlie?" Monica called from to her husband. "Is everything okay down there?" The brothers looked towards the upstairs in fear. Taking advantage of their momentary lapse, Charlie shouted back to his wife.

"Monica, get the baby!"

"Don't go in the nursery," Sam shouted hurrying up the stairs towards the mother and child. Fear took over the husband and he began to push against Dean with renewed vigor. The younger man backhanded him and Charlie slumped forward onto Dean's shoulder.

Sam burst into the nursery as a dark figure standing over the crib turned towards him, his eyes glowing an eerie yellow. Above him Monica was gasping for air, struggling and crying out for her daughter. Sam raised the gun, his face a mask of calm fury. A single shot rang out but just before the bullet hit, the demon disappeared in a black mist. Monica screamed as she fell to the ground. "Where the hell did it go?"

"My baby, my baby!" Sam grabbed Monica before she could reach the crib. Dean dashed into the room. "Dean's got her."

Clutching the baby and leaving the room just as the crib erupts in flames. They run from the house, covering their noses and mouths to keep the soot and ash from entering. Once outside, Sam and Monica stumbled down the porch in front of Dean carrying Rosie just as the nursery's window explodes in a shower of flames and glass. Harry was attempting to keep Charlie from going back into the house when he shoved the boy backwards, rushing towards the group exiting the house.

"You get away from my family!" His cheek was turning a nice shade of red from Dean's earlier hit but he appeared not to notice the pain. His eyes sparked with anger at the men who held his wife and daughter.

Monica stepped forward to keep him from hurting the boys. "Charlie, don't. They saved us. They saved us." Dean handed Rosie back to Monica before glancing over at Harry, taking in everything. He just shook his head, indicating he was fine. It wasn't the first time someone had shoved him to the ground and it wouldn't be the last. Charlie embraced his wife, kissing her head as he took in his daughter. "Thank you."

Sam looked back towards the house and his eye was immediately drawn to the figure silhouetted against the burning room. His brown eyes widen in shock and rage. "It's still in there," he muttered before beginning to run back into the house. Both Harry and Dean grabbed Sam's arms, pulling him away from his destination. "Sam, no!"

"Sam!" Harry shouted in fear.

"Let me go! It's still in there!"

"Burning to the ground—it's suicide!"

"Please Sam, he's not worth it!"

"I don't care!"

"I do!" Dean shouted shoving his brother back and catching his eye. They stared at one another for a moment before Sam pulled away from their grips and watched the house burn. Harry moved between them and Dean squeezed his shoulder before turning his attention to the house. The figure appeared to be surveying them before fading into the shadows completely.

**~*~*~**

Listening to John's screams had been musical; the way his chest contracted and expanded with each expelled breath was rhythmic and mesmerizing. The blond demon could spend hours simply watching and listening to this man scream. "Meg," as she was known to the Winchesters, watched heartlessly as "Tom" carried the unconscious man's body to a vehicle they had waiting. If only John had lasted longer…she hadn't had a really good victim in a while, one that resisted and had anger still left in their eyes. That was the true pleasure, destroying their last shred of hope as they realize there will be no release and watching as the fight left their eyes.

Shrugging her shoulders, Meg began walking purposefully away when something caught her eye. Glancing at the ground where John had been thrown back into the wall, the demon noticed a small object. Meg picked it up and inspected it closely, turning it over in her fingers. It appeared to be a coin, with numbers etched around the outer edge and a strange picture in the center. What really caught her attention was the magic radiating from the coin. It was different from her own, purer, more natural. Meg knew she had felt that magic before, somewhere…

An image came back to her – people writhing in pain, their mouths opened in silent screams, their eyes pleading for mercy, for release, for death. Others stood above their victims, cloaked and masked while a lone man stood apart from them, surveying everything that was happening with a dispassionate look upon his face but a pleasurable spark in his eye. He alone revealed his face, allowing the victims to realize he, and he alone, was the reason for their torture, that he alone held the power. The others were merely tools in his game. The magic Meg felt that night so very long ago, when she had possessed another girl fresh from school, was the same she felt now, in the palm of her hand. The magic then was altered slightly, more twisted and had an edge of darkness lurking within it but at its core, the magic was the same.

So, John had contact with wizards, did he? Meg smirked as she flipped the coin in the air and began sauntering back towards the car where Tom was waiting. It wouldn't be hard to find who this coin belonged to and why they had given it to John. She even knew of someone that could help her, someone that knew the fine art of torture, someone that had been longing for a new master. Yes, Meg decided, this would work out brilliantly.

~*~*~

"Come on, Dad. Answer your phone, damn it," Dean muttered, slamming his phone shut. The boys had returned to the motel in silence. Harry laid himself out on the bed while Sam sat beside him. Dean was pacing the room, attempting to get a hold of John. "Something's wrong... You hear me? Something's happened."

Sam had been staring at a single spot on the floor beneath him for the past half hour since they've come back. "If you had just let me go in there, I could have ended all this."

"Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life," Dean retorted frustrated with his brother's one track mind.

"Guys, please don't fight, not now," Harry tried tiredly from beneath his arm but they both ignored him.

"You don't know that." Now Sam was just being argumentative and adding tension to an already tense situation. Dean turned slowly while Harry sat up quickly.

"So, what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?"

"He didn't mean it like that, right Sam?" Harry tried again as Sam stood to face his brother.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're damn right I did."

"Yeah, well, that's not gonna happen—not as long as I'm around," Dean turned back towards the kitchen. Sam's face contorted in anger. Harry attempted to get between them and push Sam back but he tossed his cousin back onto the bed.

"What the hell are you talkin' about, Dean? We've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about."

Dean glared at Sam, either about his actions or his words, Harry wasn't sure. "Sam, I wanna waste it. I do, okay? But it's not worth dyin' over."

"What?" Sam asked incredulously.

"I mean it. If huntin' this demon means you gettin' yourself killed, then I hope we never find the damn thing."

"That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom," the younger brother said, clearly as if those facts alone should be enough to convince Dean. They were enough for him.

"You said yourself once….that no matter what we do, they're gone. And they're never comin' back." Before Harry or Dean could react, Sam slammed Dean into the motel room wall.

"Don't you say that! Don't you—not after all this, don't you say that!"

"OI!" Harry physically put himself between the two brothers. He had nothing on their six foot frames but he did have magic on his side. Pushing a little into his hands, he was able to separate them. "This is ridiculous! You're brothers for Mer— for Christ's sake! You shouldn't be fighting!"

Sam looked away, angrily while Dean continued to survey his brother. "Sammy, look….the three_—_no, four of us—that's all we have. And that's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holdin' it together, man. Without you and Dad and Harry..." Sam turned from his brother, nodding at Harry and sitting on the bed. The brunette sat beside him while Dean stood still against the wall.

"Dad... He should have called by now. Try him again," Sam said feeling fear and worry for his father pierce his frustration at losing the demon once again. The oldest brother dialed the number he'd had in his head all evening.

"_You boys really screwed up this time._"

"Where is he?" Dean snarled into the phone.

"_You're never gonna see your father again._"


	10. Part III: Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Devil's Trap". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** I hope everyone is having a great holiday, no matter where they are or what they celebrate. Here's the next part of the story. Since this episode is very SPN oriented, there will be fewer chapter per part but they will be longer. Hopefully this makes up for the time between updates! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I read each and everyone and am greatly appreciative for all your comments. As always , thanks goes out to Kirallie, my amazing beta.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

**Part III: Devil's Trap**

**~*~*~**

_I've taken all I can take_

_And I cannot wait_

_We're wasting too much time_

_Being strong, holding on_

_Can't let it bring us down_

_"It's Not Over" Daughtry_

**~*~*~**

Dean stood in the motel room, the cell phone limply clutched in his hands. "They've got Dad." Those three words should have been enough to bring him out of his stupor but they seemed to only cement him in his shock. He couldn't believe it, his brave, strong, infallible father, capture by demons; it was crazy, it was impossible, it was true.

Harry sat up, green eyes darting back and forth between the brothers. "No..." he whispered, thinking of Sirius and others who had been captured by Death Eaters. Harry didn't think demons were going to treat John any better. Sam either didn't hear Dean or didn't want to hear him.

"Meg? What'd she say?" Sam's voice was hurried, fearful of the answer yet he needed to know, had to know it was different than what Dean had just said.

"I just told you, Sammy. Okay...okay." Dean wiped at his eyes, trying to hold himself together enough to get his brother and cousin somewhere safe. Grabbing the Colt, he jammed it into his back pocket, immediately feeling safer with its familiar weight pressing into his back. He glanced at Harry and nodded. The younger boy swallowed before getting off the bed and grabbing his things, lost in his own depressive shoved clothes and books into his pack, barely registering what he was packing, if it was his own or the brothers but he threw it all together. They'd worry about sorting it later.

Sam continued to sit on the bed, watching as Dean and Harry continued to pack up their things. "What are you doing Dean?"

"We gotta go," he responded as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Harry zipped up a duffle and swung his backpack over his shoulder, his eyes sweeping over the room one last time.

"Why?" That simple word should have alerted them that something wasn't right, but they were too caught up in their own emotions to realize.

"Because the demon knows we're in Salvation, all right? It knows we've got the Colt; it's got Dad; it's probably comin' for us next." He pulled on his coat, checking to see if he'd forgotten anything before grabbing the duffle Harry had packed and making for the door. Harry was standing by the door, holding his bag, waiting for the brothers, desperately wanting to move so he could feel like he was doing something.

"Good. We've still got three bullets left. Let it come." The resolution in his voice was overwhelming and Dean turned to him in shock and anger.

"Listen, tough guy, we're not ready! We don't know how many of 'em are out there. Now, we're no good to anybody dead. We're leaving. Now." Knowing how stubborn his brother could be when in one of his moods, Sam sighed heavily, glancing at his cousin fidgeting by the door. Harry's eyes, pleading with him to just go, to leave this place, were what caused Sam to finally start gathering up his things. He never understood what Dean meant about his puppy-dog eyes getting him anything, he thought he was beginning to.

**~*~*~**

The darkness settled around the car, seeming to press in on all sides. Dean laid his foot on the gas harder, wanting to get away from it as quickly as he could. Every so often he would glance in the rearview mirror at Harry in the backseat, wanting to reassure himself that his cousin was in fact safe and with them. Silence had enveloped them as soon as they'd gotten in the car; Dean didn't think to put his ever present tapes on.

"I'm tellin' you, Dean, we could've taken him," Sam started but Dean completely ignored him.

"What we need is a plan. Now, they're probably keeping Dad alive, we've just got to figure out where. They'll want to trade him for the gun." Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes. " What?"

"Dean, if that were true, why didn't Meg mention a trade? Dad….he might be—"

"Don't!" Both Harry and Dean shouted at the same time, making it clear how they felt about that issue. The young boy couldn't allow himself or his cousins to believe for a second that John was dead. He was alive and they would find him. Why hadn't the coin worked, why hadn't it transported him to safety? It should have worked.

"Look, I don't want to believe it any more than you. But if he is, all the more reason to kill this damn thing. We still have the Colt. We can still finish the job," Sam ended adamantly.

"Screw the job Sam!" Dean's outburst startled Harry. He'd never seen him so riled up before, so incensed. He could understand the need to throw everything aside because someone close to him was in danger.

"Dean, I'm just tryin' to do what he would want. He would want us to keep going."

"Would you quit talkin' about him like he's dead already? Listen to me! Everything stops until we get him back, you understand me? Everything!"

Silence hung heavy in the air after Dean's pronouncement. Sighing, Sam asked, "So, how do we find him? Harry what do you think we should do?"

Up until then, the older boys had been ignoring their younger cousin in the backseat. Harry listened to his cousins argue, watching them as he would a tennis match. When Sam addressed him, he caught their eyes in the rearview mirror and sighed. He didn't think either one of them would like his opinion on the matter.

"I think you're both wrong," he said quietly.

"What?!" It was only Dean's overwhelming love for his car that they stayed on the road.

Harry grimaced slightly before swallowing. "Well, I don't think we should go after the Demon because with a few shots left and no extra ammo, there's too much that could go wrong. You're too angry, too upset, more likely to make a mistake and then where would we be? And I don't think we should go after Uncle John either because it's more likely to be a trap. They know you too well, they'll be waiting for you two to run in guns blazing and get yourselves killed."

"Wow, your confidence in us is overwhelming," Dean said dryly.

"Look, I've been there okay. I know what it's like to want revenge and what it's like to need to save someone, and both times someone got hurt, someone close to me." Sam and Dean glanced at each other. This was just another layer to their cousin they didn't have time to deal with.

"We need to go somewhere safe, to figure things out..." Harry trailed off uncertainly. He knew the brothers weren't going to like his plan but after the fiasco at the ministry, he didn't want them to make the same mistake he did. Besides once he got them somewhere safe, he could concentrate on trying to use magic to find him. Maybe a point-me spell or accio or something, something had to work.

Tiredly, Dean nodded. "You're right. We need help."

**~*~*~**

Meg smiled maliciously as she heard the phone snap shut. The Winchesters were so easily manipulated; it wouldn't take long before they fell right into Father's trap. Meandering through the woods, she didn't particularly care if anyone or anything saw her. Tom was watching Winchester while she met with an acquaintance who would undoubtedly aide them in their plan.

A snapping sound came from her left and she saw a figure emerge from the darkness, a cloak wrapped tightly around them with a large hood covering their head. Meg could feel the magic of the coin pulsating from the figure as they drew closer cautiously.

"Who are you?" A voice called out, scratchy from disuse. "Why have you called me here?" The disdain in their voice was evident but Meg ignored the jab in favor of flicking the coin towards the figure. Scrambling to catch it, they turned it over carefully in their fingers, the moonlight glinting off it brightly. A sharp intake of breath was heard before, "Where did you get this?"

"From someone who didn't know what it was worth," Meg replied evenly. "Tell me what you know about it."

The figure lifted their head and a rather sinister smile was seen beneath the hood. "This coin was used by a boy back home in a rebellion against my master."

"A boy, hmm?" Perhaps Johnny was keeping more secrets than she'd originally thought.

"Yes," came the response, spit out in anger. "Harry Potter. He killed the Dark Lord and I would see him rot and tortured for what he has done."

"Mmm, you may get your chance," Meg responded as the figure grew closer. "How would you feel about serving a new master and avenging your old?"

"What did you have in mind?"

**~*~*~**

The next morning saw the three boys piled in the front room of one of their father's contacts and friends, Bobby Singer. When he'd heard the rumble of the Impala, he'd admit to being a tad surprised but even more so when a boy no older than 16 stumbled out of the car, sleep still evident in his eyes. He appeared to be the only one that'd gotten much. Sam and Dean had dark circles under their eyes but were obviously wired from caffeine and nervous energy.

The boy had followed behind them into the house, using Sam's large frame to practically hide behind or it might have been to lean on as he stumbled over his feet walking up the steps. Once inside Sam had immediately gone to the books to pore over them while Dean watched the boy like a hawk as he surveyed the room. Whoever this kid was, he was obviously important to John's boys.

Handing Dean a small bottle, Bobby said, "Here ya go."

"What is this? Holy water?" Dean asked, already knowing the answer. Sam was sitting at a desk, flipping through one of Bobby's old books on demonology while Harry sat on the couch, leaning against the arm rest, tiredly.

"That one is. This is whiskey." Taking a swig, he passed the other bottle to the oldest brother who chucked some back, the burn of the alcohol seemed to wake him up like nothing else had. "Now care to tell me who this is?"

Sam looked up from his book. "This is our cousin, Harry Potter. His mother was Dad's sister." Bobby eyed the young boy before nudging the bottle of holy water closer.

"Bobby! He's not a demon. I think we'd know. Besides, we've already checked." Harry glanced at him in surprise, wondering when and how they'd "checked." Sam didn't appear to notice as he continued to hold Bobby's gaze.

"And this is my house, now drink up," he said nodding to the bottle. Harry eyed it skeptically, wary of unknown drinks from strangers. Dean and Sam nodded encouragingly while Bobby watched on with a careful eye. Harry picked up the bottle, took a deep breath and tipped it back, letting a small amount of liquid trickle into his mouth. Harry set the bottle down, letting the liquid settle in his mouth before swallowing. He cocked his head to the side. "It really is water. Huh."

"Well, of course it is, ya idget," Bobby said grumpily, taking the bottle back. Sam and Dean smirked while Harry just shrugged. If Moody had taught him nothing else, it was to be wary of strangers.

"Bobby, thanks. Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure if we should come," commented Dean as he watched Harry glance around the room, taking in the numerous books scattered on every available surface. Papers lined the walls and artifacts sat wherever books didn't. It was as though Bobby's research had exploded and taken over his house.

"Nonsense. Your daddy needs help." Dean faced him shocked.

"Yeah, but last time we saw you, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. You cocked the shotgun and everything."

Bobby shrugged unrepentant. "Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people."

Dean smiled indulgently, knowing his dad as well as he did. "Yeah, I guess he does."

"None of that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back," Bobby responded seriously, getting back on track and away from touchy-feely topics both he and Dean avoided like the plague.

"Bobby, this book—I've never seen anything like it," Sam commented. Harry had found his way over to his cousin and was reading over his shoulder; not understanding half of what was written, he thought of his best friend and how much she would love access to a book like this. Dean and Bobby walked over to join the pair.

"The Key of Solomon? It's the real deal, all right."

"Hermione'd love this," Harry muttered.

"Who's Hermione?" Bobby asked. Before Harry could answer, both brothers responded without looking up.

"His friend."

"Hey, you ever seen anything like this, Harry?" Sam asked thinking of the boy's apparent inherent knowledge of the supernatural. He shook his head in amazement.

"Nothing."

"And these protective circles – they really work?" Sam asked, indicating some in the book.

"Hell, yeah. You get a demon in one, they're trapped—powerless. It's like a satanic roach motel." Sam laughed as Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. There's rarely a branch of magic that can't be broken somehow, by something more powerful, or more clever. The Hallows had taught him that.

"The man knows his stuff," Dean said smirking.

"I'll tell you somethin' else, too—this is some serious crap you boys stepped in," said Bobby, again bringing the boys back in. The mood was tense with energy and nervousness.

"Yeah?" Sam swallowed anxiously, eyeing his brother before turning back to Bobby. Dean glanced down at Harry who was staring avidly at the book, but his eyes weren't reading. He was frozen as he listened to everything Bobby said. "How's that?"

"Normal year, I hear, say, three demonic possessions, maybe four, tops."

"Yeah." Dean said trying to break the tension. Harry didn't need to be brought into this. He was just a kid who was unlucky enough to be born related to them. If there was anyway Dean could spare him, he would do it.

"This year, I've heard of twenty-seven so far. You get what I'm sayin'? More and more demons are walkin' among us—a lot more."

"Do you know why?"

"No, but I know it's somethin' big. A storm's comin'. And you boys, your daddy—you are smack in the middle of it." Harry remembered when those words had been spoken to him. It hadn't boded well then and he had a feeling it didn't bode well now. They all turned towards the window when they heard loud barking from the junk yard. "Rumsfeld. What is it?" Bobby glanced out the window at nothing. The dog was nowhere to be found. "Something's wrong."

The door flew open, splintering slightly under the pressure of the woman standing in the doorway. She wasn't particularly tall, in fact she was probably shorter than Harry. Her bleached blond hair was cropped short and she wore a red leather jacket and jeans. Her face was fixed in a mask of rage. Dean pulled a bottle of holy water and advanced towards her while Sam shoved Harry quickly into the kitchen, keeping the demon from seeing him. "No more crap, okay?" She threw Dean into the wall as she strode forward; Sam and Bobby backing steadily away from her. "I want the Colt, Sam—the real Colt. Right now."

"We don't have it on us, we buried it," he said, trying to throw her off as he continued to stumble back. She stopped short to berate them.

"Didn't I say, 'No more crap'? I swear, after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I've got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First, Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you two chuckleheads. Lackluster, men. I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

Dean entered behind her, his eyes glittering triumphantly. "Actually we were counting on it." He glanced at the ceiling, bringing the intricately designed devil's trap to the demon's attention. "Gotcha."

**~*~*~**

Harry stood in the kitchen awkwardly listening as his cousins fought with the demon in the next room. He held his wand tightly, glancing every so often at the backdoor, praying there were no extra demons coming in the back.

When Bobby burst into the kitchen, Harry spun to face him, his face set and a spell on the tip of his tongue. Seeing who it was, he slipped his hand behind him and tucked his wand in the band of his jeans; Moody's warnings be damned. Bobby had thrown open the cupboard under the sink and grabbed a couple large economy-size bags of salt.

"What's going—"

Bobby cut him off before he had a chance to finish. "Here." He threw one at Harry, who just barely caught it. "Lay a thick, unbroken line of salt along the windows and doors in here. But not a word, got it?"

Nodding, Harry waited until the older man had left the room before trudging over to the backdoor. Ripping open the bag, he laid a liberal amount of salt along the crack; it wasn't nearly as even as the lines he'd seen at the motel but his were definitely fatter – probably used too much. He went over to the window and repeated the process. It was mindless work but it gave him something to do, made him feel like he wasn't useless. More importantly it made him feel like he wasn't helpless. Harry had a rather large bag of salt and his wand; he could protect himself from the demons, he _would_ protect himself from the demons.

When he was finished, Harry stood by the door, clutching the salt so tightly he could feel the plastic bag stretching slightly. Listening closely, he could hear voices but they were distorted due to the door. He knew if he opened it even a crack, Sam or Bobby would be back here so quickly to make sure nothing was wrong, and then yell at him for giving away his position. After realizing how useful the extendable ears were during the war, Harry had taken to always carrying one around on his person. Pulling it from his pocket, he tapped it with his wand. "_Misceo._" The disillusionment charm started to spread down the ear, until Harry could tell it was there because he knew it had to be there. Inserting one end in his ear, he threaded it under the door, tuning it slightly until he heard a female voice.

"...tie me up, all you had to do was ask."

Harry could hear someone entering the room, due to the floorboards creaking and heavy footfalls. "I salted the doors and windows. If there are any demons out there, they ain't gettin' in." So it was Bobby, Harry wondered why he hadn't come to check on him yet. Probably figured he'd be fine while the demon was tied up.

"Where's our father, Meg?" And there's Dean. He sounded dangerously conversational, as though he were dealing with a particularly difficult child.

"You didn't ask very nice," she responded in a sing-song voice, reminding Harry strongly of Peeves.

"Where's our father, bitch?" Harry heard the same tone but this time with an edge of steel beneath it.

"Jeez, you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh, I forgot. You don't." Meg certainly knew all the right buttons to push, Harry thought. He didn't have to wait long for Dean's outburst.

"Hey, you think this is a friggin' game?! Where is he?! What did you do to him?" Quick heavy footfalls were heard. Harry figured Dean was using his height to try to intimidate the demon.

"He died screaming. I killed him myself." The tired anger was seeping into her voice, as though this were a waste of her time. There was a beat of silence before Harry heard a loud smack, bone against bone, and a shocked inhalation of breath. "That's kind of a turn on—you hitting a girl."

"You're no girl." Shuffling was heard before Harry made out Bobby's voice.

"Dean." Wishing desperately that he could see what was happening, Harry waited as Dean made his way over to Bobby, threading a bit more of the ear under the door, to hear their quiet conversation better.

"You okay?" asked Sam. Harry breathed a little better knowing Sam was with them, maybe he could keep his brother in line, but also so he wouldn't unexpectedly come into the kitchen and catch Harry spying.

"She's lying, he's not dead," was the response. It was short and angry. Harry had said those words once, just like that, when Sirius had fallen through the veil. He'd wanted so desperately to believe them, now Dean needed to believe them as well.

"Dean, you've got to be careful with her. Don't hurt her."

"Why?" The genuine confusion could be heard in Dean's voice, why wouldn't someone want to hurt a demon?

"Cause she really is a girl, that's why," Bobby said as thought it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked guardedly. Harry was starting to put everything together just as Bobby confirmed his suspicions.

"She's possessed. That's a human possessed by a demon, can't you tell?" His disbelief that the brothers didn't know about possession was evident in his voice.

"You're tryin' to tell me there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?...That's actually good news." Harry's face scrunched up as he tried to interpret Dean's words. Listening closely, he heard him moving around the entrance hall.

"What are you looking for?" Harry muttered under his breath. The sound of someone rifling through one of their duffels reached Harry's ears before loud footsteps returned to the front room.

"You gonna read me a story?" Her mocking tone was clear in her voice.

"Something like that. Hit it Sam." Harry waited a beat before Latin started pouring out in Sam's calm steady voice. He recognized a word here or there but overall it was a mess of jumbled sounds.

"An exorcism? Are you serious?" Meg said sarcastically.

"Oh, we're goin' for it, baby—head-spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards."

A moment later, Sam stopped reading and a low moan sounded. Whatever he was reading was either having an effect on the demon or she was faking it. Harry listened to see how the boys would handle this.

"I'm gonna kill you. I'm gonna rip the bones from your body." Her heavy breathing destroyed the effect she was going for, but Harry had no doubt that she was serious. Given half a chance, his cousins would be killed, painfully, slowly killed.

"No, you're gonna burn in hell—unless you tell us where our dad is...Well, at least you'll get a nice tan."

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio, et secta diabolica—" Meg's breathing became heavier until she suddenly yelled out. Swallowing, Harry leaned as close to the door as possible without moving it. Even with the ear, he still edged closer, as if by being closer he could suddenly see what was happening on the other side of the door.

"He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his sons one last time. That's when I slit his throat," Meg responded through clenched teeth, anger evident in her voice. Sam resumed the incantation in the same steady voice as before. Blocking him out, Harry made out Dean's threat to the demon.

"For your sake, I hope you're lying. 'Cause if it's true, I swear to God, I will march into hell myself, and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me God."

"...Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis." Harry felt a presence in the house, rushing past him and surrounding him. It blew his hair back from his face and almost dislodged the ear but he was able to keep a hold of it. Bracing himself against the doorframe, he continued to listen.

"Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt." Sam had begun to read faster, trying to finish the exorcism before whatever was in the house could stop him. Meg yelled out and he paused in his reading.

"Where is he?" Dean asked softly.

"You just won't take 'dead' for an answer, will you?"

"Where is he?!"

"Dead!"

"No, he's not! He's not dead, he can't be!...What are you lookin' at? Keep reading." Harry could hear the desperation in Dean's voice, the need for his father to be alive. He knew his oldest cousin was close to losing it, to doing something irrevocable.

"Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, domine. Ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos." Scraping sounds could be heard coming from the other room as well as Meg's anguished screams. Somehow Harry doubted she was faking it. "Te rogamus audi—"

"He will be!"

"Wait! What?" Dean shouted, as Sam stopped reading again. Harry breath was caught in his throat as he waited for Meg's answer.

"He's not dead. But he will be after what we do to him. Him and that little bastard you're hiding." Harry jerked back from the door. How'd she know? Ripping the extendable ear from his own, he shoved it in his pocket, no longer wanting to listen but not really having a choice as the words and her hysterical laughter sounded loudly through the house.

"Oh it's going to be great; he'll be ripped to shreds."

"Shut up!" Dean shouted, lunging towards the chair.

"Dean, no!" Harry ran into the room and grabbed Dean's arm. "This is what she wants. Just...just finish it." Meg smiled at the boy, like the cat who got the cream. Harry glared at her but continued to pull Dean away from her though he didn't get very far. In the end, Dean put himself in front of Harry, blocking him from view. Harry could see the strain the exorcism was having on her yet she still had her small victories, the small tired smile was one.

"How do we know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't."

"Sam!"

Before Sam could begin reading, Meg quickly interrupted, "A building! Okay? A building in Jefferson City."

"Missouri? Where, where? An address!" Dean was frantically shooting questions at her, his zeal was apparent in his eyes. Harry glanced at Sam who was focused solely on the demon.

"I don't know!" She shouted, exasperated. She was obviously tired from her ordeal and frustrated with the brothers for forcing her to go through it.

"And the demon, the one we're looking for, where is it?" Sam seemed to sense her exhaustion, speaking in a less demanding voice, more like a parent coaxing information out of a weary child.

"I don't know, I swear! That's everything. That's all I know." Tears were rolling down her cheeks, smudging her mascara, making her look like a desperate wounded animal.

"Finish it," Dean said shortly. His face was a mask of rage as he shifted. Harry touched his back but Dean barely acknowledged him.

"What? I told the truth!" Her shocked outrage was apparent on her face as she glared up at him.

"I don't care!"

"You son of a bitch, you promised!"

"I lied! Sam?" He glanced over at his brother who was staring at the demon with a contemplative look on his face. Harry watched the demon while Dean moved towards his brother. She locked eyes with him and he saw her lips twitch, upturning just slightly as the corners. He glared back not breaking her gaze. "Sam! Read."

"We can still use her—find out where the demon is," he replied desperately, grabbing Dean's arm to stop him from leaving.

"She doesn't know!"

"She lied!"

"Sam, there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there. We've got to help her." Bobby came up behind them, glancing at Harry stare down the demon before addressing Sam and Dean.

"You're gonna kill her."

"What?"

"You said she fell from a building. That girl's body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it, the girl is gonna die." Harry jerked his head around at the three others before looking back at the girl in a new light. She was young, probably only as old as Sam and yet she had been through so much.

"Listen to me, both of you, we are not gonna leave her like that," Dean said, conviction in his eyes.

"Dean's right," Harry said vehemently, coming to stand beside his cousin. "You can't just leave her. It's not right! You've got to finish it. You can't just leave her!" Dean laid a hand on Harry's shoulder but the younger boy shrugged him off, glaring at Sam and Bobby. Ginny's prone body flashed across his eyes as he thought of leaving the girl to the demon's clutches. Nobody deserved to be forced to do anything, particularly when they didn't have control of their own body.

"She is a human being," Bobby tried.

"And we're gonna put her out of her misery." Dean looked purposefully at Harry, who nodded and turned away. "Sam, finish it. Finish it."

"Dominicos sanctae ecclesiae. Terogamus audi nos..." Harry watched as the girl continued to jerk and flail in her bindings, her eyes turning completely coal black. For a moment, Harry saw a memory flash in his mind, red eyes staring at him, before he shook his head to clear the image. Meg's head snapped back and a scream erupted from deep within her. Black smoke shot out of her mouth, clouding near the ceiling. As it dissipated, her head fell limply forward. Harry closed his eyes and turned his head away. Why is it always the innocent who die?

"She's still alive!" Harry's head snapped back when he heard Dean's exclamation. "Call 911. Get some water and blankets." The boy followed Bobby from the room as his cousins rushed forward to untie her bindings.

"Go into the kitchen, grab a glass of water." Harry nodded before hurrying off. As he stumbled into the kitchen in his haste, he thought about every healing spell he knew. What was that one Snape used on Malfoy? _Episkey_? No, that repairs minor broken bones. Oh, Merlin, why couldn't he remember?! The water overflowed the cup but he hardly cared as he slammed out of the kitchen.

Meeting Bobby in the hall, they entered the front room together. Harry handed Dean the glass of water while Bobby laid a blanket over her body. Dean raised the glass to the girl's lips but she was only able to take a sip before choking on the liquid.

"Where is the demon we're looking for?" Sam asked gently.

"Not there...other ones – awful ones."

"Where are they keeping our dad?"

"By the r-river. Sunrise." She looked towards Harry who held stood awkwardly behind Bobby, trying to keep out of the way. "Black sunrise."

"Black Sunrise? What does that mean? What does that mean?" Harry exhaled deeply, knowing this time for certain she was dead. He brushed the tears from his eyes as he turned away, not wanting his cousins to notice.

**~*~*~**

"You'd better hurry up and beat it before the paramedics get here." Sam and Dean had their bags slung over their shoulders, standing in the entrance hall.

"What are you gonna tell them?" Dean asked, conversationally. He didn't want his friend to get in trouble because of demon they brought to the house.

"You think you guys invented lyin' to the cops? I'll figure somethin' out." Bobby handed Sam the book he'd been looking at earlier. "Here. Take this. You might need it."

"Thanks." He shoved it under his arm.

"Thanks...for everything. Be careful, all right? Harry?"

The young boy looked up, his green eyes lit with anger at being left behind. He had been leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in a universal stance for teenage rebellion and anger. "Yeah?" he bit out.

Dean glared at him. "Hey." He sighed before running his hands through his clipped hair. "Look, that bitch had it out for you, specifically you—"

"You think she's the first?" Harry asked bitingly.

"So you're staying here. Mind Bobby," Dean finished tightly, ignoring Harry's earlier comment. The dark haired boy rolled his eyes. "Got it?"

"Alright, I'll mind Bobby, happy?" Harry knew they'd likely always treat him like a child to be protected but damnit, he was a freakin' war hero! Granted he could tell them he was a freakin' war hero and didn't need to be protected but still it was frustrating. At first it felt nice to be part of a family and taken care of; now it was grating on his patience. He needed to tell them about his magic and soon. As soon as his cousins would leave, Harry was planning on working on his own solution to get his uncle back, proving to them he was useful and his magic could help on hunts.

"Ecstatic," Dean responded sarcastically.

"You just go find your dad. I'll watch after the boy for ya. And when you do, bring him around, would ya? I won't even try to shoot him this time." They shared a forced laugh before the brothers left the house. As soon as the door slammed shut, Harry pushed off the wall, storming towards his room. Bobby sighed, running his hand along his face tiredly.


	11. Part III: Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Devil's Trap". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Here's the second half to this part and I think y'all will like it. Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, alerted or favorited. After last chapter, this story is the longest I've written and its not even done yet! So thank you to everyone who made this story such a success, including Kirallie, my amazing beta!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

The boys had driven straight through the night, stopping only to refuel, grab a bite to eat or switch drivers. Sam and Dean had both called Harry a couple of times over the course of the drive. The first time he had been surly and unresponsive but after Dean had hung up on him and wouldn't answer his calls back, Harry had toned down the frustration. They could both tell he was mad at being left behind but also that he was scared of being left for good, either through choice or chance. The brothers had tried to reassure him that they would return to get him, one way or another.

When they weren't talking to Harry, Sam was leafing through the book Bobby had given him while Dean played with the radio, turning it on, playing a tape for a while before turning it off and then repeating the process over again. It had quickly gotten to Sam but he brushed it aside knowing how nervous his brother was.

They had arrived in Jefferson City as the sun was beginning to rise. Parking by the river, they got out of the car to stretch their legs and think of a game plan now that they were here.

"You've been quiet," Sam said, looking up from his book. Dean finished loading his gun before turning to his brother.

"Just getting ready."

"He's gonna be fine, Dean_. _They both are. Bobby will look after Harry, and Dad, he'll...they'll be fine." Glancing back at the book, Sam took a pen from his pocket and wiping some dust from the hood of the trunk, began to draw the image from the book. Dean nearly had a heart attack watching his baby get defaced.

"Dude, what are you drawing on my car?"

"It's called a devil's trap. Demons can't get through it or inside it."

"So?"

"It basically turns the trunk into a lockbox." He finished the top drawing and was working on the one underneath the hood. Dean continued to stare at him.

"So?"

"So, we have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad." Snapping the book closed, Sam turned back to his brother. Dean decided not to address the issue of drawing on his car for the time being, oh he will get back at Sam for _that_, he had no doubt, and instead asked about Sam's reasoning.

"What are you talkin' about? We're bringin' the Colt with us."

"We can't, Dean. We've only got three bullets left. We can't just use 'em on any demon. We've got to use 'em on _the_ demon."

"No, we have to save Dad, Sam, okay? We're gonna need all the help we can get." Neither brother was willing to budge on their stance nor could they understand how the other didn't immediately agree.

"Dean, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets? Dean, he wouldn't want us to bring the gun," Sam reasoned, trying to use Dean's loyalty against him.

"I don't care, Sam! I don't care what Dad wants, okay? And since when do _you_ care what Dad wants?"

"_We_ want to kill this demon. You used to want that, too! Hell, you're the one who came and got me at school! You're the one who dragged me back into this, Dean! I'm just tryin' to finish it!" Sam shouted desperately, frustrated his brother could even be saying these things to him.

Dean seemed to consider his next words carefully. "Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that? You both can't wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I'm gonna be the one to bury you. You're selfish, you know that? You don't care about anything but revenge."

"That's not true, Dean. I want Dad back. But they are expecting us to bring this gun. They get the gun, they will kill us all. That Colt is our only leverage, and you know it, Dean. We cannot bring that gun. We can't." He knew his brother wasn't thinking with his head but with his heart and that's how mistakes were made. Meg's words had torn at Dean more than Sam thought even Dean knew.

"Fine," he conceded.

"I'm serious, Dean," Sam pressed.

"I said 'fine', Sam." He took the Colt from his pocket and overtly showing it to Sam, dropped it into the trunk before slamming it shut in anger.

**~*~*~**

Harry sat on the couch at Bobby's, running his fingers through Rumsfeld's coat, staring out the window, waiting for his family to come driving up that path, probably bickering but alive and that was the most important part. He'd spent the better part of the morning in his room, listening carefully when the paramedics arrived and being sure to not make a sound.

Afterward, Harry dove into his bag, throwing things around the room as he searched for it, the mirror. The very thing that had brought him here. It would be able to show him his uncle, prove that he was alive and then he could go right to him. It was perfect; he didn't know why he didn't think of it first off.

Finding it wrapped carefully in a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks, he held it in front of his face. "Uncle John." He waited so it could show him what he wanted to see but after several minutes only his eyes stared back at him. "John Winchester," he tried again. No change. Why wasn't it working? It had worked before, why not now? Blood magic was supposed to be the most powerful magic there was, except perhaps love as he'd learned, but something was able to block it. Was demon magic that much stronger than wizarding magic?

Shaking his head, Harry refused to believe nothing could be done. He threw the mirror down on his bed, mindful of its fragility remembering what happened last time he'd lost his temper with a mirror. "Point me John Winchester." His wand spun and the young boy held his breath. However, his wand continued to spin as though it couldn't find his uncle and simply continued to search.

Harry gripped his wand tight, ending the spell and sat heavily on his bed. Why wasn't it working? Point-me spells could give someone at least a general direction. The only reason it wouldn't have been able to find Uncle John was…No! He wasn't…he couldn't be…Harry refused to believe his uncle was dead. Unfortunately, it would explain why neither spell had worked. No, there had to be a reason.

Books were scattered all over his bed and room as Harry searched frantically for a spell he could use to find his uncle but nothing worked. He even checked the mirror by asking to see Dean or Sam and both times he saw them stoically listening to music in the Impala. Unable to accept what was glaring at him from everything he'd read, Harry had slammed out of the room. He'd been sitting on the couch ever since.

Bobby came into the room, carrying several books and a glass of tea. Harry's eyes shifted to the older man before returning to their vigil at the window. Bobby sat heavily in a chair and began to leaf through one of the books.

"Watching that window ain't gonna make 'em get here any faster." He didn't even look up from his book.

"I'm not waiting for them," Harry said, turning resolutely from the window.

"Hmph," Bobby looked up at the stubborn youth. "You know you're like them more than you know. Those boys used to hate being left here. Sam used to sit at that very window waiting for his daddy to come riding in. Dean was no better, that's for sure."

Harry looked down at Rumsfeld, running his hand between his ears gently. "Your mama was John's sister huh?"

"Mm hmm."

"How'd she die?" Bobby shook his head at Harry's shocked and guarded expression. "Now don't you be getting like that. I been listening to what people say and what they don't say for a long time, 'fore you were even a twinkle in your mama's eye. I saw how those boys didn't really tell me nothing bout your mama and that told me everything. Now spill."

The young boy held the grizzled man's eye for a moment before sighing. "What do you know about wizards?"

Bobby sat up straighter, put his tea and book aside, giving Harry his full attention. "Not much. I haven't really come across too many."

"No, they tend to stay away from mu-er, outsiders."

"Hmm," Bobby said at the interruption. "Well, hunters got to be careful, they ain't like most magic-folk we deal with. Wizards' magic is a part of 'em, witches on the other hand, they beg, borrow, and steal their magic. They're the unnatural ones."

"Yeah well, when I was a baby, my parents went into hiding from a dark wizard named Lord Voldemort. They didn't even last a week. Dad was killed first, didn't even get a chance to defend himself. But Mum, she begged him, to kill her, to save me." Harry broke off suddenly. He'd heard the story so many times, he could probably recite it in his sleep but it got to him every time. "He killed her, he tried to kill me but...something happened and he couldn't."

"John know bout this?" Bobby asked evenly. Knowing the man, as soon as he took care of the demon that killed his wife, he'd be after the wizard that killed his sister.

"He knows my mum was killed and the man who did it is dead but not the specifics. I don't want them to get involved with the wizards."

"Hmph, you Winchesters are a bunch of idgets, know that?" He grabbed his book, shaking his head and muttering under his breath about thick-headed fools. Harry smiled before turning back to the window. It felt good to tell someone about what happened and a little about his life; now all he had to do was work up the courage to tell his family.

**~*~*~**

After the argument about the Colt, Sam and Dean had walked along in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Every so often, one would glance at the other but they never caught each other's eye. Seeing a copse of trees, the brothers ducked and quickly sprinted towards them.

"Hey, hey. I think I know what Meg meant by 'Sunrise'." Indicating across the street, Sam spied an apartment complex with a large sign out front boasting "Sunrise Apartments".

"But what did she mean by Black sunrise?" Sam asked.

"Beat's the hell outta me, you're the college boy, not me," Dean quipped before turning back to the building . "Son of a bitch. That's pretty smart. I mean, if these demons can possess people, they can possess almost anybody inside."

"Yeah. And make anybody attack us."

"And so we can't kill 'em—a building full of human shields." This had just gotten a whole lot harder. Dean rubbed his hand down his face in frustration.

"They probably know exactly what we look like, too. And they can look like anybody."

"This sucks out loud," said Dean, voicing both of their opinions.

"Yeah, tell me about it. All right, so, how the hell are we gonna get in?" Dean looked back towards the building, surveying the parking lot and exits that he could see before nodding his head.

"Pull the fire alarm. Get out all the civilians."

"Okay. But then the city responds in what? Seven minutes?"

"Seven minutes, exactly."

**~*~*~**

"I always wanted to be a fireman," Dean said as he and Sam swept the homemade EMF meter around the hall. After Dean had sufficiently distracted the actual fireman, Sam had been able to steal a couple of suits and they entered the building with none the wiser.

"I never knew that," Sam responded just as the meter began to squawk loudly, indicating the room before them was the one they were looking for. Dean pounded on the door loudly.

"This is the fire department, we need you to evacuate!" They heard the lock turning and the chain being removed. As soon as the door began to move, Dean slammed his foot into the door, sending it flying open and throwing the two people on the other side back. They spray them with fire extinguishers before shoving the pair into a nearby closet. Sam held it closed, throwing his body weight against the door housing the enraged demons while Dean poured a liberal line of salt along the edge.

After taking off their suits, they hurried towards a bedroom. John was lying flat on his back, his arms and legs spread eagle and he head lolled to the side in unconsciousness. "Dad?" Dean felt for a pulse, letting out a relieved breath. "He's still breathing." Shaking the man a little, he tried to rouse him. "Dad, wake up. Dad!"

Taking out his knife, he went to cut the ropes just as Sam grabbed his wrist. "Wait, wait!"

"What?" Dean said exasperated.

"He could be possessed for all we know."

"What are you, nuts?"

"Dean, we've got to be sure," Sam responded before taking a flask from his pocket, flicking the holy water at John copiously. Sputtering, the boys' father awoke with a start.

"Sam? Why are you splashin' water on me?"

"Dad, you okay?" Dean asked as he began to cut the ropes binding his father to the bed.

"They've been druggin' me. Where's the Colt?" John questioned tiredly.

"Don't worry, Dad. It's safe," added Sam, relieved he'd been able to convince Dean to leave it in the car.

"Good, boys. Good, boys."

They were able to ease him up to a sitting position. As tired as he appeared, he tried as much as possible to help the boys get him out of the apartment. Dean and Sam each put an arm over their shoulders and lifted as one. Together, they trudged towards the door as quickly as they could.

As soon as they made it out of the room, the door leading out splintered in and two men, a fireman and a civilian, walked in, their eyes completely darkened. "Go, go!"

"Back, back!" Stumbling, they practically threw John back into the room, twisting the lock in place as they did so. A loud crack sounded and an axe pushed its way through the door. Sam grabbed the salt and began to line the door, flinching every so often as wood chips would rain down on him, while Dean led John to the window, easing it up.

"Sam, let's go!" Following them out, Sam poured more salt along the sill before scrambling down the fire escape.

On the ground, the three Winchesters hurried towards the Impala parked nearby. Dean was grappling with the door handle when he saw a man slam into Sam and the pair flew to the ground. Straddling the youngest Winchester, the man began mercilessly pounding into his face, blood pouring from cuts on his cheeks and his broken nose. Dean kicked out at the man but he threw him away, sending him flying into a windshield of a nearby car, and resumed his methodical smashing of Sam's face. Getting up, Dean pulled the Colt from his pocket and barely took a second to aim before firing a bullet straight through the temple of the possessed man. He toppled to the ground and Sam scuttled away. Dean ran over, pulling his brother to his feet. "Sam, Sam?"

Glancing at the body sadly, Dean dragged his brother back to the car and began helping his father in. "C'mon, c'mon we've got to get out of here."

**~*~*~**

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes when he heard Bobby shouting at Rumsfeld downstairs while he brushed his teeth. He'd given up waiting at the window after dinner, mostly because Bobby threatened to let Rumsfeld sleep with him who apparently became very gassy in the evening; Harry stayed well away from the window for the rest of the night.

Bending his head, Harry rinsed his mouth and was just about to leave the bathroom when he heard Bobby shout and Rumsfeld growl. Hearing a fight break out below him, he wrenched the door open and ran into the hall. The older man was scrambling up the stairs when a jet of red light exploded behind him and he fell forward, shock and fear clearly written on his face.

Harry rushed forward to pull him up when he caught a look at his attacker and rage filled his chest. "You!" Pumping his legs he ran towards the woman and tackled her, rugby style. They tumbled down the stairs; Harry landed heavily and rolled away. Standing, the young boy glared at the witch before him. He ducked a rather nasty blasting hex and grabbed his wand from his shoe where he'd been keeping it since arriving in Colorado. "_Expelliarmus_! _Stupefy_!" Unable to block both spells, the woman threw herself to the ground. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Harry opened his mouth to stun the woman when he felt his entire body stiffen. He'd been struck by a nonverbal _petrificus totalus_ and Harry fell hard onto his back. Unable to move, he stared up into her cold eyes as she approached smiling and pointed her wand into his face. Red light filled his vision then all was dark.

**~*~*~**

They'd driven for several hours, well into the night until Dean pulled off onto an old country lane. The dilapidated building it led to had been abandoned for years; John had found it after a particularly nasty hunt with a poltergeist. Sam and Dean had watched their father carefully and unobtrusively as he slept in the backseat, keeping as silent as possible. Relief was evident that they finally had their father back with them.

"How is he?" Sam asked as he poured salt along the window sill. Dean had just returned from checking on their father.

"He just needed a little rest, that's all. How are you?"

Sam took a deep breath. "I'll survive. Hey, you don't think we were followed here, do you?"

Dean looked up as his brother turned to face him. "I don't know. I don't think so. We couldn't have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up."

"Yeah." The younger man laughed nervously, glancing away. He cleared his throat, trying to gather his thoughts together. "Hey, uh….Dean, you, um….you saved my life back there."

"So, I guess you're glad I brought the gun, huh?" Dean responded cockily, his lips settling into a small smirk.

Sam shook his head. "Man, I'm tryin' to thank you here."

Dean considered him for a moment. "You're welcome." The youngest Winchester walked away, leaving his brother to his thoughts. "Hey Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there."

Sam turned to face him. "You didn't have a choice Dean," he said, trying to reassure him that it wasn't his fault.

"Yeah, I know. That's not what bothers me."

Confused, Sam asked softly, "Then what does?"

"Killin' that guy, killin' Meg—I didn't hesitate. I didn't even flinch. For you or Dad,and I guess Harry, the things I'm willin' to do or kill, it just….it scares me sometimes." Sam knew how hard this was for Dean to admit, not only to him but also to himself. His brother had always been the strong one, the one to make it all better, now he saw the toll it took on him.

"It shouldn't. You did good." Dean looked up as his father entered the room, surprise written on his face.

"You're not mad?"

"For what?"

"Using a bullet." Dean said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Mad? I'm proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you—you watch out for this family. You always have," John explained, a slight hint of satisfaction in his voice.

Dean eyed him carefully, not quite sure what to say to him as this situation had never come up. "Thanks." A strong wind whistled through the trees outside as the lights flickered spastically. John hurried to the window followed closely by his boys.

"It found us, it's here."

"The demon?"

"Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door," ordered John.

"Already did it."

"Well, check it, okay?" John responded, a tinge of annoyance coloring his voice. He waited until Sam had left before turning to his older son. "Dean, you got the gun?"

"Yeah."

"Give it to me."

"Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It vanished," he said as he reached behind him where he'd stored the weapon.

"This is me. I won't miss. Now, the gun. Hurry." He held out his hand for the gun but Dean looked at it before looking at his father. "Son, please." Holding tighter to it, his oldest backed away, his face set in a stony mask. "Give me the gun. What are you doing, Dean?"

"You'd be furious."

"What?"

"That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn't be proud of me. He'd tear me a new one." Dean steadily raised the gun, cocking it as he did so. "You're not my dad."

"Dean, it's me."

"I know my dad better than anyone. And you ain't him," Dean responded through clenched teeth.

"What the hell had gotten into you?" John asked, confusion marring his features as he tried to figure out his eldest son.

"I could ask you the same thing. Stay back." Sam hurried into the room only to halt abruptly. He glanced between his brother and his father.

"Dean! What the hell's going on?"

"Your brother's lost his mind."

"He's not Dad."

"What?" Sam wasn't sure who he was responding to, both proclamations were absolutely ridiculous. He'd been gone for two minutes and everything had turned upside down.

"I think he's possessed. I think he's been possessed since we rescued him." Sam's eyes swung towards his dad as John immediately gave him an order.

"Don't listen to him Sammy." He considered it for a moment, shifting from foot to foot.

"How do you know?"

"He's different."

"You know, we don't have time for this. Sam, you want to kill this demon, you've got to trust me." Sam looked between the two. John was resolute with only a waver in his voice but Dean was downright crumbling, this was killing him, pointing this gun at their father. "Sam?" Right then he knew, he knew Dean was right. Their dad would never allow them to argue with him this much.

"No...no." He didn't know why he said it, if it was to himself or to John, but he shuffled over to stand beside his brother. Realizing, he'd run out of option, John allowed his tears to fall.

"Fine. You're both so sure? Go ahead. Kill me." He hung his head, waiting for the shot to ring out. Dean continued to hold the gun but he couldn't do it, he couldn't shoot. "I thought so." The demon lifted his head, his eyes flashing yellow in the moonlight. A smirk settled on his features as Sam flew into a wall followed closely by Dean. The gun clattered to the ground.

The demon ambled across the room and picked it up gingerly. "What a pain in the ass this thing's been." He looked towards Sam where the young man was struggling against the magical binds.

"It's you, isn't it? We've been lookin' for you for a long time."

Smiling, the demon shrugged. "You found me."

"But the holy water?" he questioned.

"You think somethin like that works on somethin like me?" Sam pulled his head forward off the wall slightly before it slammed back, a loud thunk echoing around the cabin.

"I'm gonna kill you!" he spat venomously.

"Oh, that'd be a neat trick. In fact, here. Make the gun float to ya there, psychic boy." Dean watched as Sam stared at the piece but he couldn't make it move. The demon laughed as he walked slowly across the room. "Well, this is fun. I could've killed you a hundred times today, but this...this is worth the wait." He stopped in front of Sam before turning to Dean, smiling. "Your dad? He's in here with me—trapped inside his own meat suit. He says 'hi', by the way. He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

"Let him go or I swear to God—" Dean stated coldly.

The demon interrupted him harshly. "What? What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice. You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

"Who, Meg?"

"The one in the alley? That was my boy. You understand?"

Dean scoffed in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me..."

"What? You're the only one who can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed _your _family? Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don't make a right."

Smiling wickedly, the demon turned away from them and looked towards the door. As if on cue, it opened and a woman entered carrying a bound and gagged Harry in her wake. Struggling for all he was worth, she threw him to the floor in front of the Winchesters, before smiling up at them behind a curtain of long black hair. Her pale gaunt face had once been beautiful, but now her dark eyes glistened with malice. She smiled as she backed away from Harry to stand beside the demon.

"Bella," the demon purred, brushing her hair away from her face. "So glad you could join us." He began walking towards Harry, who leaned back to get away from him. "And you must be Harry. I've heard so many things about you, about how special you are."

Bella hissed angrily but didn't take a step forward. Dean and Sam were helpless to stop what was going on, but that didn't mean they couldn't vocalize it.

"Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!" Dean snarled.

Lifting his head, he smirked at the brothers. "Now, now," he reached forward and snatched the gag from the boy's mouth. Harry took deep breathes, glaring all the while at the demon possessing John. "There, that's better isn't it.

"Master, please..." Bella pleaded, looking longingly at Harry, her dark eyes glinting with desire.

"Not yet," the demon rose back to his feet. "It's time Harry did a little explaining. Keeping secrets isn't nice, you know."

"Piss off!" Harry said through clenched teeth. Just like when he was younger, facing Voldemort, he let his mouth get the better of him, knowing just the right words to make the man angry.

Quick as lightening, the demon struck Harry across the face. Blood dribbled from a cut on his cheek and the side of his face burned, but he still turned hate-filled green eyes to the face of his attacker.

"Oh, that's right," the demon said, smiling as he stepped away from the boy. It was almost time. "John's not the first uncle to hit you, is he?"

For the first time since Harry had entered the room, the brothers completely ignored the demon and looked at Harry shocked. Foregoing them for the moment, the younger man simply sat there, taking it, knowing the demon was trying to get a rise out of him. Unfortunately it was working. A large crack appeared in one of the windows, running slowly down, stopping only when Harry looked away from the demon, breathing heavily.

"That's not the only thing he's been keeping from you. I think it's time we showed you the rest. Bella." Harry's head shot up, looking at the woman with fear in his eyes. She walked forward steadily, holding before her a wand.

"No..." He attempted to scuttle away from her but his hands and feet were still bound. Dean and Sam renewed their efforts to break free from the demon's hold, straining against the wall.

"Harry!" Sam screamed.

"Get away from him, bitch!" yelled Dean. Their words fell on deaf ears as she continued to advance. Bringing the wand up, she flicked it at Harry, saying distinctly, "_Crucio_!"

For a second nobody moved except Harry. He lay on the floor twisting and jerking, his mouth clenched shut and his eyes closed. His hands were fisted so hard, blood began running down his arms. Bella continued to stare at Harry, that twisted smile plastered on her face.

When the silence seemed too much, a scream erupted from Harry. His eyes shot open, seeing something no one else could. His anguish poured off him in waves. Not quite knowing what the curse was doing to him, Sam and Dean again struggled to break free, to get to their cousin or his tormentor, screaming obscenities left, right and center as well as promising to kill the bitch.

"Bella." As quickly as it started, it was over. She pulled the wand up, ending the curse. Gasping harshly, Harry rolled on the floor, trying to get away from the aftershocks of the curse. Tears leaked from his eyes.

"Harry," Dean said, trying to get his attention. "Harry! C'mon man, answer me!"

The dark haired boy looked up at his older cousin, pleading with his eyes to take the pain away. Dean nodded. "Okay, it's gonna be okay."

"Oh, now you shouldn't lie to him," the demon said stepping forward, noticing the way Harry flinched. "He had to be punished after all, for keeping secrets. Figured it out yet?"

"You son of a bitch."

"I wanna know why. Why'd you do it?" Sam called across the room, bringing the demon's attention to him, away from his brother and cousin.

"You mean, why'd I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess? Or why I let little Harry here get tortured...? Cause you know the answer to the second part and well, the first...?"

"Yeah." The demon turned back to Dean, getting right in his face.

"You know, I never told you this, but Sam was gonna ask her to marry him. Been shoppin' for rings and everything. This family's just full of secrets and in the end, they always come back to bite you in the ass. You wanna know why? Because they got in the way." The demon made his way quickly over to Sam.

"In the way of what?" Sam countered immediately.

"My plans for you, Sammy—you….and all the children like you." He glanced at Harry still on the floor. He'd regained his breath and was inching his way to standing. The demon brought his hand up and Harry flew over to the wall opposite the brothers. He grimaced when his already hurt body slammed into it. "Oh, and you think you're the only one special in this family. That secret Harry's been keeping from you...yeah, that magic in little Bella over there, it's in him too. And that curse, well let's just say, Harry's not exactly a boy scout, now is he?"

"Listen….you mind just gettin' this over with, huh? 'Cause I really can't stand the monologuing," said Dean, once again bringing the demon's attention to him. He refused to believe that his cousin, the boy who was afraid of them not caring about him was capable of that. He'd deal with whatever it was Harry was hiding later, but right now, he had to stop this demon.

"Funny. But that's all part of your M.O., isn't it? Mask all that nasty pain. Mask the truth."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is….they don't need you. Not like you need them. Sam—he's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight. And Harry, well he's everybody's favorite Golden Boy. John took him in after a phone 's more concern than he's ever shown you."

"I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh, wait, I forgot. I wasted 'em." The demon took a step back, lowering his eyes as he did so. When he raised them, Dean gasped and screamed in pain as blood began seeping through his shirt. Bella smiled maliciously and clapped her hands like a child given a particularly wanted gift for Christmas.

"Dean, no!" Sam shouted.

"No!" Harry yelled from his place on the wall. His tired body protested his struggles but he wouldn't give up, not when he'd just found them.

"Dad! Dad, don't you let it kill me!" pleaded Dean as the blood poured more heavily down his shirt and dribbling out of his mouth.

"Dean!" Sam spied the gun sitting innocently on the table and tried again to use his powers. Harry watched helplessly as his cousin was slowly killed, tears leaking from his eyes.

"Dad, please!" With one final whispered plea, Dean's head hung limply as unconsciousness overtook him.

"Dean, no!"

"Stop." The yellow faded from his eyes, and it was John looking at his boy. "Stop it." Sam broke away from the wall, rushing towards the table where the Colt was. Grabbing it, he swung it around at Bella who disapparated with a loud crack, before settling it on the demon who had resumed control of his father's body. "You kill me, you kill Daddy."

"I know." Sam lowered the gun slightly and fired into his father's leg. Electric sparks shot up the leg and a black cloud seemed to surround him for a second before John fell to the floor hard. Dean and Harry collapsed to the floor. Harry hurried over to Dean, ignoring his injuries. He rolled his cousin over into a more comfortable position. Sam rushed over and knelt beside them. "Dean? Hey. Oh, God, you lost a lot of blood."

"It's alright," Harry said thickly. "He's gonna be alright..." Neither were sure if he'd said it for themselves or because it was true.

Weakly, Dean raised his head. "Where's Dad? Harry?"

"He's right here. They're both right here, Dean." Harry squeezed his cousin's shoulder to reassure him he was all right.

"Go check on him. Go check on him." Sam glanced at Harry who nodded before he got up and cautiously approached his father.

"Dad? Dad?"

"Sammy!" John woke with a start, gritting his teeth. "It's still alive. It's inside me. I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son! Do it, now!" He raised the gun and cocked it with tears in his eyes but he didn't shoot.

"Sam, don't you do it. Don't you do it," Dean ordered.

"No, don't!" Harry shouted, attempting to stand to get to his cousin but his legs weren't cooperating.

"You've got to hurry! I can't hold on to it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I'm beggin' you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!" The youngest Winchester wavered between his love for his father and his thirst for revenge.

"Sam, no..." Dean whispered. Lowering the gun slightly, Sam looked at his father in despair.

"You do this! Sammy! Sam..." John's scream filled the cabin as the cloud of black smoke swarmed out and seeped into the floorboards. Once it was clear, John took a deep breath before letting his head fall back, disappointment clear on his features. Dean leaned back into Harry, both relieved, while Sam let the shock of the situation flood his system.

**~*~*~**

The Impala was speeding down the highway. Sam gripped the wheel with both hands, his father next to him taking deep steadying breaths while Dean sat behind Sam, slumped against the door, exhausted. Harry was behind John, watching Dean but trying to remain inconspicuous, hoping they'd forget the demon's little revelation.

"Just hold on, all right? Hospital's only ten minutes away."

John stared out ahead. "I'm surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye to eye on this—killin' this demon comes first. Before me, before everything."

Sam glanced in the rearview mirror at Dean and Harry. "No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we still have the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, all right, I mean, we already found the demon—"

Bright headlights bore down on the muscle car before almost a hundred thousand pounds of weight smashed into it, not even bothering to break. The windows shattered, spraying glass everywhere as the car was pushed off the road and drug through the dirt until it coasted to a stop. Inside, everyone was lying limp in their seats, their heads positioned at uncomfortable angels as blood flowed freely down their faces.


	12. Part IV: Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Devil's Trap". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:**Well, now Harry's biggest secret is out. Phew! I was so happy everyone liked the way I revealed him and I greatly appreciate all the reviews and comments. There may be some parts in this chapter that are confusing but it'll all be explained. Big thanks for everyone who read and/or reviewed as well as to my beta Kirallie. By the way, I started school this week and it appears my classes are all pretty reading/writing intensive. I'm going to try to keep up with posting but if I have to postpone it'll probably be due to school, sorry in advance.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

**Part IV: In My Time of Dying**

**~*~*~**

_I will be all that you want and get myself together_

_Cause you keep me from falling apart_

_And all my life, I'll be with you forever_

_To get you through the day, and make everything okay_

_"I Will Be" Avril Lavigne_

**~*~*~**

Sam opened his eyes blearily, as blood dripped slowly down his face. He could just make out the crunching sound of footsteps on the gravel beside the car. Pain flared all over his body but he kept himself impeccably still, waiting for the demon to show himself. A loud grinding reached his ears before his door was twisted away from him and thrown off into the night. Sam lifted his head slowly; the pounding in his skull was making it hard to concentrate.

"Get back," he said softly, dangerously. Sam held the Colt limply in his hand, angling it towards the demon.

"You won't," came the short sure reply. "You're saving that bullet for someone else."

Cocking the gun, Sam raised it as steadily as he could, his stare level. "You wanna bet?"

The demon smiled before letting a horrendous scream loose, black smoke billowing into the night sky and disappearing. The truck driver fell to his knees and Sam slumped tiredly against the seat, putting the safety back on the Colt just before it fell from his limp hands.

"Oh my God," the man said as he looked at the wreckage of twisted metal and broken flesh. "Did I do this?!"

Ignoring the frantic cries of the driver, Sam moaned piteously, "Dad? Dad!" Silence surrounded him. Turning his head, Sam felt his breathing hitch as the situation fully settled on him. "Dean? Dean! Harry, oh God, anyone?!"

**~*~*~**

Dean sat up abruptly, glancing around the quiet room warily. The silence was overwhelming as he took in the starkness, white-washed walls, scratchy pale blue sheets, artificial incandescent light, he was in a hospital. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Dean cautiously made his way into the hall. The cold floor seeped into his bare feet but he barely noticed. "Sam?" He peeked into an adjoining room, waiting for a response. "Dad? Harry?" Continuing down the hall, Dean began to wonder where all the personnel were. "Anybody?"

What the hell was going on? Dean thought as he slowly made his way downstairs. Finally spotting someone in a uniform, he hobbled over to the desk, mindful of his injuries. "Excuse me. Hi. I think I was in a car accident with my dad and my brother. I just need to find them." The blonde woman continued to type and compare what was on the computer screen to a piece of paper in her hand. Normally, Dean's pride would be a little wounded at such a pretty woman completely ignoring him, but his concern for his family was overriding his other emotions. "Hello?" Waving his hand in her face, snapping his fingers a few times, it became apparent rather quickly why she hadn't responded. She couldn't see him.

A new emotion gripped him, fear. Bolting from the receptionist desk, Dean hurried down the hall, ignoring the non-looks from the people around him as he searched for his family, occasionally glancing in rooms as he passed. Dean was brought up short when he recognized the person lying in the hospital bed. _Couldn't be..._Cautiously approaching, Dean took in the features and knew without a doubt that was him, lying there with a tube down his throat. Swallowing, he studied his double, taking it the large gash running down his forehead to the scratches on his arms to the numerous lines and wires attached to him, to keep him alive. A steady beeping and whooshing of air were all that filled the quiet room.

Someone entering the room had Dean turning and he felt relief like nothing he had ever felt before fill him. Sam was here, alive, a few bumps and bruises but otherwise he was fine. Dean smiled widely. "Sammy. You look good, considering," he amended. Sam had come out of the crash with a large black eye and cuts across the bridge of his nose and along his cheeks.

"Oh no," the younger Winchester bemoaned softly, his breath hitching slightly as he surveyed the man lying on the bed. Dean's stomach dropped as a startling realization occurred to him.

"Man, tell me you can hear me." He waited a beat. Maybe he was too upset over Dean's injuries to respond... "How's Dad? Is he okay?" Still no response. Frustration began to seep into his voice as he tried in vain to communicate to his baby brother. "Come on, you're the psychic. Give me some ghost whisperin' or somethin'." Never before had Dean been glad for his brother's ability; he hoped that somehow he and Sam could communicate so that he could get out of this mess and back into his body. It was weird seeing himself lying there, so prone and helpless.

"Your father's awake. You can go see him if you like." Both brothers turned to look at the man who'd just entered the room. His starched white overcoat indicated he was the doctor. The older gentleman was dark skinned with gentle eyes as he spoke with Sam. Dean let out a breath he'd been holding.

"Oh thank god," he muttered. Sam glanced back at his brother's body, his entire frame dejected as he organized his thoughts. Although Sam towered over the doctor, he appeared smaller as he listened to the other man. Nodding slowly, Sam turned towards him, brown eyes pleading.

"Doc, what about my brother?" Dean could hear the desperation in Sam's voice. The doctor walked further into the room to stand beside the young man. He knew his news wouldn't be taken well, given the extent of all three patients injuries, a person could only take so much bad news, but he knew he had to let Sam know his findings. He had his own questions that had to be answered - something wasn't adding up about what happened.

"Well, he sustained serious injury – blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidney. But it's the head trauma I'm worried about. There's early signs of cerebral edema," he responded as clinically as possible, knowing he had to stay detached in order to get through this part of his job.

"Well, what can we do?" Sam asked. Dean glanced back to the doctor, waiting on tenterhooks for his response.

"Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up – _if_ he wakes up." Sam turned sharply at the doctor's amendment while Dean glared at the older man for even putting the idea that he wouldn't make it in Sam's head.

"If?"

"I have to be honest—"

"Screw you, doc. I'm waking up!" The doctor continued, speaking over Dean's outburst, further confirming Dean's suspicions nobody could hear him.

"Most people with his degree of injury wouldn't have survived this long. He's fighting very hard. But you need to have realistic expectations, son."

Dean stared hard at his younger brother, willing him to hear this one message at least. "Come on, Sam. Go find some hoodoo priest to lay some mojo on me. I'll be fine. Sam?" Nodding his head, Sam continued to stare morosely at Dean's body before glancing up at the doctor.

"And my little brother? How's Harry?" Dean turned in shock back to the doctor; to be honest, he'd forgotten about his younger cousin in the shock of finding his body. The doctor took a moment to compose his thoughts before speaking cautiously. He had to be judicious with his wording so that Sam could understand the gravity of the situation.

"Son, I'm surprised your brother even survived the crash. While he doesn't have a head injury near severe as Dean's, he took the full impact of the semi, breaking several ribs and his right arm, collapsing a lung as well as sustaining considerable blood loss due to abrasions on his right side. But what we're concerned with is the condition of his muscles."

"His muscles?" Sam asked confused. His brows crumpled in thought as he tried to figure out when Harry's muscles had been injured during last night's fight.

"They are all in various states of disrepair. Some appear to have been continuously contracted while others were expanded. There is extensive damage around his joints where the muscles were beginning to tear. More worrying is that his skeletal muscles weren't the only ones affected; his cardiac and smooth muscles appear to have sustained injury as well." The doctor's brown eyes hardened considerably. "This was not the result of a car accident..."

Dean watched as Sam swallowed, staring in shock as the doctor told him the extent of their cousin's injuries. "Son of a bitch...I'm gonna kill her!" Dean whispered softly but vehemently. Dean knew Sam was putting the pieces together and coming to the same conclusions he did: whatever spell Bella had held him under had done the damage to Harry's muscles. It was the only thing that made sense.

"I didn't know..." the younger Winchester whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. "Will he...?" He let the question trail, not sure what he wanted to know. Harry had to be alright, he had to get better, they all did.

"Given time, his muscles should heal but like Dean, it is a matter of waiting for him to wake up, to know the full extent of his injuries. We've never had a case like his before so we don't know how to proceed. Any information you can give us would be helpful..." the doctor asked, prodding for more information.

"I don't know anything," Sam responded truthfully, giving his brother one last look before leaving to talk with his father, ignoring the doctor on his way out.

**~*~*~**

Sam stood beside his father's bed, watching as he struggled to remove a card from his wallet with his left hand. John had been knocked unconscious from the impact but his broken leg was the only injury he'd acquired. The doctors were keeping him for observation to make sure they hadn't overlooked anything.

John handed Sam the card. "All right, here. Give 'em my insurance."

Smirking slightly, Sam read aloud the name on the card. "Elroy McGillicuddy?"

"And his three loving sons," the older man snarked back. "So…what else did the doctor say about Dean or Harry?"

Shaking his head, Sam replied harshly, "Nothin'. Look, since the doctors won't do anything…then we'll have to, that's all. I don't know, I'll find some hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on them." Tilting his head to the side, Sam appeared to consider what he'd just said but shrugged it off as John started talking.

"We'll look for someone," John said trying to appease his son. Sam had a determined look in his eye as he spoke about saving his brother and cousin. He knew his son would put everything aside until both were better. John had to remind him of the realizations of the situation. "But, Sam…I don't know if you're gonna find anyone."

"Why not? I found that faith healer before," Sam replied petulantly. He couldn't believe his father would even say this to him, just like the doctor, throwing doubt into the equation.

"Well, that was one a million."

"So what? What, do we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?" The quiet discussion had somehow morphed into a bitter argument between father and son. Sam glared at his father, lying there, acting like nothing could be done for Dean.

"No, I said we'd look. All right? I'll check under every stone," John tried to keep the anger from leeching into his voice as his son questioned him at every turn. He knew Sam was frustrated and hurt and scared for Dean, but damn it, so was he! Sighing, John continued as though the last few minutes hadn't happened. "Where's the Colt?"

Sam stared at him incredulously, his expression hardening as he saw how serious John was. "Your son is dying, Harry is in some coma after being magically tortured and you're worried about the Colt?" He answered evenly.

"We are hunting this demon," John replied quickly, letting his anger show at his son's backtalk. "And maybe it's hunting us, too. That gun may be our only card."

Sam stared ahead before nodding slightly, knowing he'd been chastised. "It's in the trunk. They dragged the car to a yard off of I-83."

"All right, you've gotta clean out that trunk before some junk man sees what's inside."

"I already called Bobby," Sam replied, knowing before his father had told him he had to clean out the car. "He's, like, an hour out. He's gonna tow the Impala back to his place."

Nodding as he listened to his son, John felt a swell of pride as he realized his boys knew what they were doing. "All right, you go meet up with Bobby. You get that Colt and you bring it back to me, and you watch out for hospital security."

Smirking slightly, Sam responded, "I think I got it covered." He rose steadily and made to leave the room when his father's voice stopped him.

"Hey." John was reaching across his chest, holding out a slip of paper to Sam. Taking it, he glanced at what was written, listening to his father talk. "Here. I made a list of things I need. Have Bobby pick 'em up for me."

Sam's brow furrowed as he read off the list of items. "Acacia? Oil of Abramelin? What's this stuff for?"

"Protection," was the short reply.

Sam started to leave before turning back abruptly, one last thought entering his head. "Hey, Dad? You know the demon – he said he had plans for me and children like me. You have any idea what he meant by that?"

John looked him square in the eye. "No, I don't."

"Do you believe what it said about Harry? About him being like that woman?" Sam waited a beat as his father gahtered his thoughts.

"Sam, I don't think Harry is like that woman in any way," John said, sighing. "He may be different but he's nothing like her." Sam bobbed his head in some form of aquiessence before turning from the room.

Dean watched from his corner of the wall the interaction between his brother and father before Sam left. He'd followed Sam from his hospital room to his father's, wanting to see for himself the old man was all right. Dean read his father like an open book and knew he was keeping things close to the vest. "Well, you sure know somethin'."

**~*~*~**

Sam stared in shook and not a little fear at the heaping hunk of twisted black metal and chrome that was once Dean's beloved car. He felt Bobby shift beside him as they surveyed the damage. "Oh man. Dean is gonna be pissed." The entire front end was crumpled like an accordian and the right side was smashed in where the truck had hit. The paint was scratched out in deep gouges and two side windows were completely absent with only jagged edges still stuck in the frame. Dirt and dust covered the entirety of the vehicle from not only being pushed into the dirt by the semi but also from being towed to the junkyard. The car had sustained many "injuries" throughout his life but this was the worst he'd ever seen it.

Trudging over to the wreck, Bobby sighed as before, "Look Sam...this just ain't worth a tow." He lifted the hood to peer underneath at the engine. Letting it drop, the hood became unhinged and lay precariously on the car. "I say we empty the trunk and sell the rest for scrap."

Sam reached into the car, pulling out his ruined laptop. "No." The cover came off in his hands and he threw it aside carelessly. "Dean would kill me if we did that. When he gets better, he's gonna wanna fix this." Sam laid the ruined computer on the roof of the car and peered back into the car to see if there was anything left in the back seat.

"There's nothin' _to _fix. The frame's a pretzel, the engine's ruined – barely any parts worth salvagin'," Bobby replied, trying to reason with the boy he'd watch grow up, knowing it was killing him to hear these words.

Sam leaned against the frame. "Listen to me, Bobby. If there's only one working part, that's enough. We're not just gonna give up on—" He broke off, knowing the topic of the conversation had shifted from the Impala to Dean.

Bobby closed his mouth and gave him a moment to gather himself. "Okay, you got it. Hey, uh Sam...?"

Sam looked up confused at Bobby's hesitant tone. In all the years he'd known the man, he had never known him to hesitate. "Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say sorry, for lettin' the boy—" Bobby took his hat off, twisting the bill in his hands. The older man was clearly upset about being unable to stop Harry from being kidnapped on his watch.

"It's not your fault," Sam started. "It's that—" He broke off again, looking away in anger. Taking a few steadying breathes, he looked Bobby in the eyes. "He's going to be fine; he's going to be just fine." Neither were quite sure who he was talking about, his brother or his cousin, but there wasn't any doubt about Sam's determination that they would both pull through.

Pulling the list from his coat pocket, he handed it across the car to Bobby. "Here. Dad asked if you could get this stuff for him."

Bobby didn't look up as he spoke, his eyes quickly scanning the items. "What's John want with this?"

"Protection, from the demon...What?"

Bobby swallowed nervously under Sam's intense gaze, and shifted from foot to foot. It really wasn't his place to come between father and son. "Nothin'. It's just, uh..."

"Bobby, what's going on?"

**~*~*~**

_The warmth of the fire spread over Harry's clothes, seeping into his skin and, warming him from the inside out. It crackled happily, flames leaping, twirling and falling back to the ashes in the grate. The common room was quiet as most of the older students had filtered out to hang out with friends in other houses or participate in the age-old teenage ritual of dating. __A few of the first and second years were scattered around. Harry and his friends had been able to secure the coveted positions closest to the fire, Hermione claiming the large overstuffed armchair, snuggling deeply into it with one of her ever present books._

"_Your move mate," Ron muttered, not taking his eyes off the chess board. He was lying on his stomach, rolling one of Harry's taken pawns between his fingertips absently. _

_The youngest boy brushed his fringe out of his eyes before leaning on his arm. Harry knew he was beat, every move he could possibly make would be immediately countered by Ron with him taking his king in two or three moves. _

"_You really are rubbish at this, aren't you?" Harry glanced up into the smiling face of his best friend. He heard a snort come from somewhere above him and he turned to look at Hermione who peeked out from beneath her lashes, her brown eyes dancing with mirth. _

_The silence of the common room was broken by laughter erupting from Ron and Hermione; her hand came up to her mouth to try containing it while Ron was on his back, his body shaking from the exertion. Harry felt a smile force its way to his lips. He flicked his king down, indicating he had well and truly lost. _

_Chuckling at his friends, Harry watched as they attempted to control themselves before they spied the other and their laughter began anew. Warmth that had nothing to do with the fire flared in his chest. Feeling content and happy, Harry grabbed up several of the pieces and chucked a few at Ron. Scrambling up, Ron ran around the chair, attempting to escape his friend. Hermione held her book above her head as a few stray pieces flew her way. _

_The others in the common room glanced over at the interruption before going back to what they were doing. It was just a bunch of first years having fun._


	13. Part IV: Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Devil's Trap". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** So sorry for the longer than normal wait; I meant to have this posted last night but I noticed I'd lost my internet just as I was about to. Thanks to everyone for being so patient; I greatly appreciated the gesture. Also thanks to anyone who reviewed, they defintely brightened my day during a hard time. Lastly I'd just like to say how amazingly awesome my beta, Kirallie is for getting not only this chapter back beta'd but the whole part! You rock chica!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

To Dean, John was superman, nothing could touch him. He could remember waiting up for his father when he was little to come through that motel room door, the evil thing slain, the innocent people saved and his hero returning to his family. John would often be a wreck, cut up emotionally and physically but he'd be alive and that's all that mattered to Dean. There was nothing that could stop his dad, nothing. Dean was starting to think that wasn't true.

John had been sitting in his hospital room since Sam left an hour ago, one of those thin scratchy blue blankets wrapped around his shoulders, staring morosely at his son's body. Dean waited, just as he had done all those years ago, but John never said a word, never moved to touch him, never tried to do anything. Dean saw for the first time how old his father was, how tired. It showed in every line on his face, every sag of his shoulders, every exhaled sigh that passed his lips. He could feel his frustration welling up within himself as Dean watched his hero fall apart.

"Come on, Dad. You gotta help me. I gotta get better, I gotta get back in there." Dean found himself saying things he'd always wanted to say but never could, not to his dad. "I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you gonna do anything? Aren't you even gonna say anything? I've done everything you have ever asked me. Everything." Tears welled up in his eyes as he swallowed past a lump in his throat. "I've given everything I've ever had. And now you're just gonna sit there, and you're gonna watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?"

Silence settled on the room after Dean's passionate outburst. John continued staring sadly at his son while Dean waited. A soft rushing sound startled Dean from his thoughts and he turned towards the door. "What is it?"

Just as he reached the door, a large figure hurried past him. It was transparent with a yellowish sheen to it and appeared to be cloaked somehow, ragged strips trailing after it. It's body was thin and skeletal, almost as though it was decaying as it floated past. Jumping back to avoid the creature, Dean glanced back into the room. John hadn't moved from his spot. "I take it you didn't see that."

Moving from the room, Dean swept through the hall, keeping an eye out for the creature. He passed the staircase and was halfway down the opposite hall, when he heard the rushing sound. Pivoting, he spied the creature entering a room. Following it cautiously, Dean entered and stopped abruptly. Harry was lying peacefully on the bed. Tubes ran from his mouth as nose and numerous wires were attached all over his arms. His face was scratched and bruised while his right arm was covered in a neat white plaster cast. Dean watched as faint tremors began to travel up his arms slightly.

"Harry?" Dean stepped further into the room, stopping himself from reaching out for his cousin. "Hey man, it'll be alright." The teen began convulsing more until his entire body was nearly throwing itself over the bed. The monitors attached to him began to beep shrilly at an ever increasing rate.

Sticking his head out the door, Dean shouted, "Hey! I need some help in here!" He knew they couldn't hear him but he felt helpless not being able to do anything. Nurses hurried into the room, one of whom was quickly filling a syringe with a clear liquid before injecting it into his IV line. The tremors began to fade and Harry settled limply on the bed. Dean watched helplessly, drawing in a shuddering breath and moving closer, his hand resting just above Harry's shoulder. He knew he couldn't actually touch him but it was as close as he could get.

"Poor boy," the nurse muttered around the pen cap in her mouth as she noted on Harry's chart the time of his seizure.

"Especially considering his family situation..." Another nurse added waspishly, this one younger than the other with her long red hair pulled back loosely.

"Hush Maureen, it's not polite to gossip about the patients," the older woman chastised her coworker. "Besides did you see their father, he's completely torn up." Dean rolled his eyes at the hypocritical woman and was grateful to see them leave.

"Don't worry Harry, we'll figure this out."

**~*~*~**

_Harry shook awake, the tremors from the nightmare still racking his body. He pushed his sweat drenched bangs off his forehead, taking deep breathes trying to calm his racing heart. A loud bang had him nearly jumping off his bed. _

"_...stir my cauldron, and if you do it right, I'll boil you some— Oh! Harry, I didn't realize you were awake," Mrs. Weasley said, a red tinge spreading across her face before concern settled on her features. "Are you all right, dear?" She set the basket of laundry on the floor hurrying over to his bed before he could respond. _

_Harry sat up, bringing his hands up trying to reassure her. "No, no I'm fine." She didn't listen to a word he said as she laid a hand on his forehead, frowning slightly when she realized he wasn't running a fever. "Mrs. Weasley, really, I'm alright."_

"_Mm hmm, I've heard that before," she said as she pulled her hand back. Mrs. Weasley perched herself on the bed beside him and fixed him with her motherly gaze. "Care to tell me what this is all about, hmm?"_

_Harry looked down at the bedspread, picking absently at a loose thread. He knew she was only trying to help but it wasn't her job. She was Ron's mother, not his! Several minutes passed before he felt her hand under his chin, gently lifting his face until his eyes met hers. _

"_You know you can come to me with anything, right?" Mrs. Weasley said softly. "I will always have time to listen." Tears welled up in his eyes, but Harry brushed them away before they could fall. He nodded slowly and she leaned forward, brushing his forehead with her lips. Mrs. Weasley then smoothed out his blankets as though nothing had occurred before getting up. _

_Mrs. Weasley paused at the door, "Lunch is ready, dear. Oh and see if you can get Ron to clean up in here; it smells as though something's died!" Taking in his relieved smile, she shut the door firmly behind her and took a deep breath. He was strong, no doubt about that. But no teenager should have to see what he had. Mrs. Weasley was determined to help him anyway she could, even if just meant a hot meal and a warm bed to sleep in. _

**~*~*~**

Dean paced the length of John's hospital room, frustrated at not being able to help his cousin, knowing there was something out there, trying to get him. John was lying in his room, his arm up in a sling, clearly bored out of his mind as he waited for his younger son to return.

Sam stormed into the room, an army-green bag slung over his shoulder. His expression was closed off as he stopped and stared out the window, knowing his father would be the one to speak first. Dean rushed over to him, anger lacing his words. "Sammy, tell me you can freakin' hear me, man. There's somethin' in the hospital. Now you gotta bring me back and we've gotta hunt this thing. It went after Harry, Sam!"

"You're quiet." Their father's soft voice wafted across the room, effectively stopping Dean's speech. Sam turned abruptly and was across the room in two strides, throwing the bag down on his father's legs.

"You think I wouldn't find out?" Sam asked incredulously.

John stared him down evenly. "What are you talking about?"

"That stuff from Bobby. You don't use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one." Dean watched shocked as his father turned his head away slightly in acceptance. "You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you, and having some stupid macho showdown!"

"I have a plan, Sam," came the tired reply. Sam leaned forward, gesturing wildly in his anger.

"That's exactly my point! Dean is dying and you have a plan! You know what? You care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son!" Dean walked over to his father's bedside as his brother stormed around to the end, to face his father head on.

"No, no, no. Guys, don't do this! Harry needs our help!" Dean muttered as his brother and father really started to get into the fight. He knew neither of them were truly angry with each other, otherwise there'd by blows exchanged injuries or no, but they were hurting and often times the way they expressed their hurt was different and they ended up clashing with each other. Dean had seen it when Sam had gone to college. His father had closed himself off, refused to talk to anyone including Dean, simply saying he had a plan. Dean had watched his brother board the bus that would take him to California, from the shadows obviously but he had to make sure his baby brother made it. Sam would take his phone out, stare at it before putting it back in his pocket. Sam liked to talk through his problems whereas their father liked to beat the shit out of them.

"Do not tell me how I feel. I am doing this for Dean." The man in question turned to consider his father, wondering just what exactly he was planning. His father rarely let him in on his plans, mostly because they involved his father doing somethingn he knew neither of his boys would like, so rather than fight about it, he kept them in the dark.

"How? How is revenge gonna help him?" Sam asked skeptically. "You're not thinkin' about anybody but yourself! It's the same selfish obsession!"

"Come on, guys, don't do this! Hello! Harry had a seizure, that thing is after him! We gotta stop it!" Dean tried again, getting tired of their constant fighting.

"It's funny, you know what, I thought this was your obsession, too! This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this hunt! Now, if you killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened!" Sam stared at his father as he spoke. He couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

"It was possessing you, Dad, I would've killed you, too!"

"Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now!" John responded as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Shut up, both of you!" Dean shouted, finally letting his frustration and anger get the best of him. He couldn't stand them when they were like this, families shouldn't fight! They should protect each other, not tear each other apart. Why couldn't they see that?

"Go to hell!" Sam said, venomously.

"I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake! I knew—"

"I said, shut up!" Dean swung out with his arm and crashed into a pitcher of water sitting near John's bed. It flew to the floor, shattering and spilling water everywhere. All three occupants of the room stared in awe at the mess on the floor. "Dude, I full-on Swayze'd that mother."

Dean suddenly felt a terrible pain lance through his body. Stumbling slightly, he clutched his stomach as he curled in on himself. For a moment everything flickered. "What is it?" The room continued to flicker but he heard his father's voice.

"Something's goin' on out there." Dean heard his brother leave the room and he slowly felt the pain receded enough for him to stand. Glancing at his father who was staring avidly at the doorway, waiting for someone to tell him what was going on, Dean edged around the bed and slowly made his way out of the room. He saw Sam leaning against a doorframe of another hospital room and wandered over. His eyes hardened as he took in the scene.

The doctor from before was standing with two defibrillator paddles in his hands surrounded by three nurses who were working to shock some life back into Dean's body. Above them, invisible to their eyes, the creature was hovering above his bed, slowing lowering his hand towards Dean's face.

Storming into the room, Dean shouted at the creature. "You get the hell away from me. Stay back!"

"No change, I'm starting CPR."

"I said, get back!" He grabbed the thing's arm, shock covering his face as his hands connected with something solid. Dean had a second to register what exactly this meant before he felt his body fly through the air and slam into the far wall. The creature glared at Dean before gliding from the room. Dean rushed to follow it but unfortunately, he lost it when he reached the hall.

"We have a pulse. We're back into sinus rhythm." Sam slumped in relief before backing up slightly to come to a stop in the middle of the hall, staring in shock at his brother's body. Dean walked up to him, determination etched in the lines of his face.

"Don't worry, Sammy. I'm not goin' anywhere. I'm gettin' that thing before it gets me or Harry. It's some kind of spirit, but I could grab it. And if I can grab it, I can kill it." Dean stalked off, leaving his brother behind in search of his quarry.

It was when he reached the junction of the staircase that he heard a woman yelling, fear obvious in her voice. "Can't you see me?! Why won't you look at me?!"

"Now what?" Dean muttered, hurrying towards the voice.

"Somebody talk to me! Say something, please!" He saw her on the stairwell. She was wearing a white cotton shirt and white scrubs; her black hair was cropped short and swinging about her face as she tried to get someone's attention.

"Can you see me?" Dean asked, hesitantly.

"Yeah," she breathed out in relief. Climbing the stairs two at a time, he stood before her.

"All right, just calm down. What's your name?" Immediately, Dean had fallen into hunter mode, trying to sooth the frightened civilian. Sam was better than he was, what with his huge brown eyes and trust-me-I'm-innocent expressions, but Dean could do it if he had to.

"Tessa."

"Okay, good Tessa. I'm Dean."

"What's happening to me? Am I...Am I dead?" Tessa watched him with scared brown eyes trying to understand the frightening situation.

"Well, that sorta depends."

Dean found himself standing beside Tessa as the pair looked into her hospital room. Tessa's body was lying on the bed, strung up like Dean and Harry to numerous machines. A woman with long black hair was sitting beside the comatose woman, her hand stroking the limp fist. It was clearly a mother trying to give her daughter strength to hold on.

"I don't understand. I just came in for an appendectomy," Tessa reasoned.

"I hate to bear bad news, but…I think there were some complications."

"It's just a dream, that's all," Tessa said as she stepped forward to face Dean, turning her back on the scene in the room. "This is just a very weird, unbelievably vivid dream."

"Tessa, this is not a dream," Dean responded. He had to make her understand that this was real. Most people who encountered the supernatural often found ways of repressing what they saw and most of the time, he was all for them forgetting. But now, she had to know so they could figure out how to get back in their bodies.

"Then what else could it be?"

"You ever heard of an out-of-body experience?"

Confusion marred her features as she considered what he'd said. "What are you, some New Age-y guy?"

"You see me messin' with crystals or listenin' to Yanni?" Dean retorted harshly. Tessa looked down, sufficiently chastised. "It's actually a very old idea. It's got a lot of different names – bilocation, crisis apparitions, fetches. I think it's happening to us. And if it is, it means that we're spirits...of people close to death."

Tessa turned to glance at her body before looking at Dean. "So we're gonna die?"

"No. Not if we hold on. Our bodies can get better, you can snap right back in there and wake up." Dean ignored the strange look Tessa gave him as she tried to absorb the information.

**~*~*~**

Sam found himself back in John's room after Dean's crash. Something happened that had been bothering him and he knew his father would be able to help him reason it out. "Dad something's not right, I felt something, in Dean's room—" Before Sam could finish, the doctor knocked on the doorframe, letting them know he was there. Behind him were two officers, their brown uniforms indicating they were probably state as opposed to local police.

"Sorry to interrupt but these gentlemen would like to have a word with you both." Sam shared a glance with his father before turning and planting himself between his father and the officers.

"What can we do you boys for?" John asked lightly.

"We just wanted to get some information about the accident for our report," the younger officer said before flipping open a notepad. John nodded and he continued. "Did you see the semi at all before the accident?"

"No, it just came out of nowhere," Sam responded in his most innocent voice.

"We were trying to get my youngest son to the hospital actually when it happened," John added.

"Care to elaborate, sir?" the other officer asked, his face blank and emotionless.

"He was angry at me and blew out of our friend's house where we were staying. We thought he'd make his way back..." He paused, appearing like he was trying to steady himself. Sam saw the officers soften a little at John's performance.

"Then we got a call, asking us to come pick him up," continued Sam, picking up where his dad had left off. They'd lied to the police so many times, they'd perfected the technique enabling them to build on each other's lies as if it was the real story they were remembering. "And when we got there, we found him..."

"He was lying unconscious on the floor, and some guy was standing over him. He took a shot at me before running off."

"Could you describe the man?"

"It was dark but I'll do the best I can. Uh, he was about average height, maybe a few inches less than my son here, dark hair, clipped neatly, and eyes...I couldn't tell you what color his eyes were." John took a deep breath and coughed harshly for a minute.

"Is that enough officers? My father's still recovering and..." Sam said as he hurried forward, concern apparent on his face, edging the men away from the bed as he did so.

"That should be enough for now."

"Thanks for your time." They nodded at the two men before exiting the room. The doctor stepped forward and cleared his throat.

"I just wanted to alert you to your youngest son's condition. Harry had a seizure about an hour ago but we were able to get it under control. Non-epileptic seizures can occur due to head injury but we're still worried about how this will affect his recovery."

"When will he wake up doc?" John asked quietly.

"Other than the seizure, he appears to be doing remarkably well. He hasn't crashed and after we re-inflated his lung, everything appears to be holding. Now it's a waiting game."

"Thanks doc," Sam said smiling tightly as the man left, John was too lost in his own thoughts to even notice.

"What do you mean you felt something?"

Flustered, it took Sam a moment to understand what his father was asking him. Taking a breath, he tried to explain. It was easier to deal with this like it was a hunt rather than try to understand the medical jargon or allow himself to be pulled under by the helplessness of it all. "I mean, it felt like…like Dean. Like he was there, just out of eyeshot or something. I don't know if it's my psychic thing or what. But do you think it's even possible? Do you think his spirit could be around?"

Smirking slightly, John replied, "Anything's possible."

"Well, there's one way to find out." Sam started to leave the room when he heard his father's voice.

"Where you goin'?"

"I gotta pick something up. I'll be back," said Sam, shortly.

"Wait, Sam. I promise…I won't hunt this demon. Not until we know Dean's okay." Nodding, Sam slipped from the room, leaving John with his thoughts.


	14. Part IV: Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "In My Time of Dying". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Okay, I'm starting to get back on track, hopefully I can keep this up! This episode is pretty confusing, I will admit but bear with me, it'll become more apparent in the last chapter what's going on. Also for those of you who are anxiously awaiting Harry becoming more involved, its coming. He'll begin to take a more active role in the story in the next part, and magic will begin to be introduced more, in the next part. Big thank you to everyone who read and reviewed, all your comments are greatly appreciated and taken into account. Also Kirallie deserves your love and praise for betaing as she got this back to me quickly and helped me figure out where I'm being vague and need to explain more. Thanks chica!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

Dean and Tessa were walking peacefully down the hall of the hospital, ignoring the doctors and nurses hurrying past them, unmindful of their presence. Over the past several hours, Dean had grown accustomed to the fact that no one could see or hear him, though if he thought on it long, it would probably bother him. Something was nagging at Dean in the back of his mind but he brushed it away. He had more important concerns, like figuring out how to get him and Tessa back into their bodies. "I've gotta say, I'm impressed."

"With what?" Tessa asked lightly, her hair swinging behind her as she walked along, as though learning she was dying was an everyday occurrence.

"You. I mean, most people in your spot would be Jell-O by now, but, uh, you're takin' this pretty well. Maybe a little better than me." They'd stopped walking and were facing each other at the foot of the stairs where they'd first met. Dean watched her carefully for signs of distress or a breakdown that was just brimming under the surface.

"Don't get me wrong," Tessa said, sighing. "I was pretty freaked at first, but now, I don't know, maybe I'm dealing." She ended shrugging her shoulders, trying her best to explain the calmness she felt since learning of her imminent death.

"So you're okay with dying?" asked Dean incredulously, his face awash with skepticism. How could anyone be okay with dying, with leaving their family and friends? His family meant everything to him and he wasn't leaving them without a fight, damn creature or not.

"No! Of course not," Tessa exclaimed vehemently before drawing back a little. Her face pinched as she tried to gather her thoughts so she could explain them to him in a way that he'd be able to understand. "I just think whatever gonna happen is gonna happen. It's out of my control. It's just...fate."

Dean listened as she spoke carefully keeping his thoughts and emotions on the subject closely guarded, allowing only his eyes to portray his doubt. He wasn't sure if this was a defense mechanism or what, Sammy would be better at playing shrink, but he sure as hell wasn't about to let her continue believing she didn't have a choice.

"Huh. Man, that's crap," he said shortly. Something flickered in her eyes but Dean couldn't read it. "You always have a choice; you can either roll over and die, or you can keep fightin' no matter what—" Dean broke off as a voice over the loud-speaker caught his attention.

"_Dr. Kripke to Room 237, code blue. Dr. Kripke to Room 237, code blue._" He turned and started to follow the running nurses towards the patient's room, fear coiling in his stomach as he thought of the creature.

"Just wait here." Dean didn't have time to worry about Tessa and he prayed she would listen to him. He caught sight of the nurse's overly bright shirts and hurried after them into a room. A single doctor as well as several nurses and orderlies were working on a young girl; the machines surrounding her beeping shrilly indicating something was wrong. The creature hovered over her reaching out its hand and ran it along the side of her face.

"Get away from her!" Dean shouted rushing at the creature but before he arrived it had already vanished. The beeping stopped and a single sharp note took its place. Dean felt his stomach drop as he realized what that sound meant.

"Alright, let's call it.

"Time of death – 5:11 pm."

"At least she's not suffering anymore." Dean stared at the girl, barely hearing what the hospital personnel were saying. A reaper? He was dealing with a reaper? But that must mean...No! Dean clamped down on that thought immediately. Pushing his emotions aside he left the room, only to realize Tessa wasn't waiting for him at the stairs. Sighing, Dean started to make his way to his own room.

Fifteen minutes of watching over his body, Dean watched as Sam entered the room, hunching his shoulders slightly, a sure sign of sadness. He was carrying a large paper bag under his arm and moved slowly towards the bed.

"Hey," the brunette said as he took in his brother's still form. "I think maybe you're around, and if you are…don't make fun of me for this, but, um…there's one way we can talk." Sam reached into the bag and pulled out a dark rectangular box. Dean caught the words "Mystical Talking Board" on the cover and knew immediately what his brother had in mind.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me." Sam was already seated on the floor with the board set up before him, his large hands resting gently on the planchette.

"Dean?...Dean are you here?" Sam asked, glancing up and searching the room for any sign of his brother. Sam looked so earnest sitting there that Dean knew he had to at least try.

"God, I feel like I'm at a slumber party," he muttered as he took a seat opposite his brother. "All right, Sam. This isn't gonna work," Dean warned before placing his fingers on the other side of the planchette, mirroring Sam's. He took a breath before pulling it towards himself, letting it rest on _yes_. "I'll be damned."

Laughter broke out of Sam's lips, his head thrown back as though he couldn't contain his happiness. "It's good to hear from you, man. It hasn't been the same without you, Dean."

"Damn straight." Resettling himself, the older brother began to move the planchette around the board. Now that he had a way of communicating he wasn't going to waste it when he had a hunt to finish.

"Dean, what? H...U...Hunt? What, hunting? Are you hunting?" Dean again moved the spade-shaped object to _yes_. "Dean, it's in the hospital, what you're hunting— Do you know what it is?"

"One question at a time, dude."

"What is it?"

As Dean started moving the planchette around the board, he spoke to his brother even though he knew Sam couldn't hear him. At least he was getting his ideas out of his head and could pretend this was a normal case. "I don't think it's killing people. I think it's taking them. You know, there time is just up."

Sam followed the planchet around the board, taking in the letters Dean was spelling. After the fourth letter, understanding lit his eyes. "A reaper?" Sam paused as he let the information sink in. "Dean? Is it after you?" For the third and final time, Dean moved the planchette to _yes_ before taking his hands off it. "If it's here naturally, there's no way to stop it."

"Yeah, you can't kill death," Dean agreed, knowing Sam was coming to the same conclusion he had.

"Man...you're, umm..."

"I'm screwed Sam."

"No!...No, no, no." Sam got up quickly, leaving the board as though he couldn't bear to touch it and receive more bad news. "There's gotta be a way. There's gotta be a way. Dad'll know what to do." He left the room , not even looking back at his prone brother.

Entering his father's room, Sam stopped abruptly seeing the rumpled sheets and empty bed. Quashing his anger at his father's blatant disregard for his promise, he crossed over to the bedside table pulling open the drawer harshly. Underneath the Bible, Sam found his father's journal. He pulled it out and hurried back to his brother's room.

Sam sat beside Dean's legs on the bed, trying to ignore the way his brother didn't respond. "Hey, so Dad wasn't in his room."

"Where is he?" Dean asked making his way towards the bed from the window he'd been perched on since Sam left. The board was still left in its place from Sam's departure earlier but Dean didn't bother trying to use it to communicate. This was enough, having his brother here, knowing Sam knew he was still around; it was enough.

"But I got Dad's journal, so who knows? Maybe there's somethin' in here." Sam began flipping through the pages.

Dean watched his brother for a minute, taking in his determination, his hurried nature as though he knew Dean didn't have long before the reaper came to take his soul. He felt the corners of his lips tilt up. "Thanks for not giving up on me Sammy." He began to read over his brother's shoulder and a particular passage caught his eye. "Son of a bitch."

Dean stormed into Tessa's room, darkness enveloping him as the lack of machinery, body and weeping mother brought him up short. The young woman stood leaning against her bed, her hospital scrubs gone replaced with dark wash jeans and an elegant top. The light that had lit the girl's eye before was gone, instead a steady calm, rational vacancy was left in its place.

"Hi Dean," she said softly. He ambled slowly into the room.

"You know, you read the most interesting things. For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception? I sure didn't." Dean paused looking at her face. Tessa showed no emotion as she listened to his speech, remaining utterly passive to his anger. "Basically, they can make themselves appear however they want. Like, say…a pretty girl. You're much prettier than the last reaper I met."

"I was wondering when you'd figure it out," she stated matter-of-factly.

"I should've known. That whole 'accepting fate' rap of yours was far too laidback for a dead chick. But you know, the mother and the body – I'm still tryin' to figure that one out." Dean paced in front of her like a caged animal, angry at her for tricking him, angry at himself for falling for it.

"It's my sandbox. I can make you see whatever I want." Her unemotional tone was really grating on him, especially when he was entirely too emotional.

"What is this, like a turn-on for you? Huh? Toyin' with me?" Dean asked bitterly.

"You didn't give me much choice. You saw my true form and you flipped out – kind of hurts a girl's feelings." Her attempt at a joke fell flat and she continued as though it had never happened. "This was the only way I could get you to talk to me."

Dean squared his shoulders and crossed his arms. "Okay, fine. We're talkin'. What the hell do you wanna talk about?"

"How death is nothing to fear." Tessa got up from the bed and made her way towards him. Dean was determined not to step back even though every instinct he had was telling him to. "It's your time to go, Dean." She laid her hand on his cheek and he felt a surge of power run through him. Dean couldn't stop the sharp intake of breath as fear quickly followed. "And you're living on borrowed time already."

**~*~*~**

John pushed open the door to the boiler room ignoring the warnings and entered shouldering the bag full of supplies he'd had Sam bring back for him. He kept his mind as blank as possible, resolutely not thinking about his last words to his son. This was for Dean, for both of them and he'd break a hundred promises if it meant Dean was alive and whole.

Finding a decently clean area, John dropped the bag, mindful of his broken arm and sore leg as he bent to rummage around inside for his chalks. Taking one in his left hand, he began to draw out the symbols he already knew by heart. Sam would never understand, would never approve of what he was about to do. Dean might but he wasn't awake to talk sense into his brother. But he would be, John would make sure of that.

When he was done, John took out the herbs carefully mixing them in the bowl and set it in the center of the diagram. He lit several tall fat candles and placed them strategically within the circles, being sure they were exactly where they were supposed to be. Everything had to be precise in order for this to work. Finally John sighed as he took in his handy work. He began speaking in Latin, his voice growing stronger the longer he said them. Slicing his right hand, John ended the spell. Ignoring the pain all over his body, the father of two struck a match and lifted it above the bowl of herbs.

"Oh John..." a soft voice muttered from behind him. He turned as the flame went out from a cool breeze. His brown eyes glistened as he took in the woman standing before him. Her red hair was vibrant as it fell down her back in soft waves, curling slightly at the ends, framing her face. She smiled in understanding, her green eyes filled with care and acceptance. Her white gown fell to the floor but appeared to never touch, like she was there but couldn't contact the physical world.

"Lily...?"

"Knew you'd figure it out," her lilting accent was full of laughter as she glided forward. John knew he should question this, protect himself, raise the gun, something, but he just stood there. He'd never been one to freeze in a fight, he was always on guard, always ready but this woman, no this ghost was able to bring him up short. "You always were quick. I've been watching you for a while."

"Why...?" John wasn't quite sure what he wanted to ask. Why was she here? Why did she watch him? Why did she have to die, before they ever got a chance to know each other? Why? Why? Why?

"You're my big brother; somebody had to watch out for you. Honestly, always getting yourself into the worst scrapes," she glared jokingly at him, her eyes dancing and her mouth quirking slightly. He felt himself smirk even as he felt the tears burn his eyes. It was the easiest question to answer and John could tell she didn't have the answers to the rest. "Is that a...smile? Did the big bad John Winchester just smile?"

He gave her a look before shaking his head at her laughter. It was nice, light and airy, filling up the room with a tinkling sound of happiness. He hadn't heard a woman laugh like that since Mary; quite frankly, John hadn't wanted to hear it. It reminded him too painfully of what he's lost. Lily began to glide around the room, appearing to take in everything nonchalantly.

"So what are we going to do about this little scrape?"

John's chest tightened as it had been doing ever since the crash, when Dean and Harry hadn't woken up. He looked away. "I have a plan..."

"Yeah, a bad one," Lily said abruptly. He focused on her sharply but she only smiled her sweet smile. "But lucky for you, I have one too."

Sam stood by the bed, the journal closed and lying flat on the table. He looked down at his brother, taking in the tubes running into and out of his body, the long gash down his forehead, the unnatural stillness that pervaded someone so energetic. "Dean, are you here?" Sam glanced around, hoping to find some evidence of his presence but knew it was futile. "I couldn't find anything in the book," he continued. "I don't know how to help you. But I'll keep tryin', all right? As long as you keep fightin'." Laughing slightly to break the silence, Sam tried to keep his voice from breaking. If he was here, Dean would never let him get away with such a heartfelt scene. "I mean, come on, you can't leave me here alone with Dad, we'll kill each other, you know that... Dean, you gotta hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just startin' to be brothers again...Can you hear me?"

**~*~*~**

_Harry stumbled into the common room, his tired limbs protesting every movement. He fell onto the couch, barely managing to make it all the way on before throwing his arm over his eyes to block out the light from the room. He didn't want to see the destruction of the room that had once brought him a feeling of such safety. Granted the main battle hadn't taken place here, but__a few skirmishes were evident in the burn marks on the walls and broken furniture strewn about. _

_It hadn't taken long before voices could be heard on the other side of the portrait hole. His friends had come to find him, but he was too tired to move. Harry felt the couch sag and shift as they assembled around him. Lifting his arm slightly, he gazed at them silently. Ron and Hermione were sitting on the floor, cuddled up next to each other while Ginny had sat at his head and had begun carding her fingers through his hair. Neville was slumped in one of the long-fought over armchairs by the fire and Luna was standing next to him, staring around the common room, taking in everything with her observant eyes. All of them were ignoring him and speaking quietly to one another in quiet tones. _

"_I can't believe it's over," Hermione whispered. _

"_I can't believe I helped Malfoy," countered Ron. Ginny snorted while Hermione shook her head. _

"_I can't believe I killed a snake," said Neville, shock clear in his voice. "I killed a snake..."_

"_Yeah, and it was bloody huge!" exclaimed Ginny. The older boy shifted his eyes from the spot he'd been staring at since he'd sat down to the fiery redhead. Neville saw the hesitant smile, the lifting eyes, the need to not think about what had happened. Ginny just wanted things to be like they were for a moment, just them hanging out in the common room, sharing a laugh about something stupid. _

"_It was, wasn't it?" Neville couldn't help but acquiesce her request. It was such a little thing, to play along for a bit. Quiet forced laughter broke out; like they weren't quite sure they were allowed to laugh after everything that had happened. It died as suddenly as it came. _

"_It's very red." Everyone turned to look at Luna's odd comment. "The room, it's very red." Harry lifted his arm from across his face and sat up slightly, staring at the blond-haired girl. "I like it."_

"_Yeah, I like it too," Harry responded. After his comment, it seemed a collective breath was released. The tension broke from everyone's face and they relaxed more fully into their seats. Harry laid back down, nestling into Ginny's lap and closed his eyes but not falling asleep. Luna sat gingerly on the end of the couch and started up a conversation with Ginny about nargles while Neville and Ron talked about anything that wasn't about what just happened. They'd all save that for another day. _

_Harry knew it wasn't over, not really, not for good. There would be other battles about other issues. Prejudices still abounded in the wizarding world and that wouldn't change overnight. But he knew he could weather anything so long as these people were by his side. A nagging doubt in the back of his mind kept trying to tell him there was something else he needed to do; somewhere else he needed to be. Harry pushed it aside though, these people, this place, this is where he belonged. As the darkness of sleep overtook him, words to a song floated through his head. "Don't go round tonight; well, it's bound to take your life. There's a bad moon on the rise..."_

**~*~*~**

Dean stared out into the night with unseeing eyes. He had to get out of this; he had to make her understand. "Look, I'm sure you've heard this before…but you've gotta make an exception. You've gotta cut me a break."

"Stage three – bargaining." Dean turned as he heard her voice. She was simply standing there, waiting for him to come to terms with death as though she had all the time in the world, maybe she did.

"I'm serious," Dean said advancing towards her. "My family's in danger. See, we're kind of in the middle of this…war. And they need me."

"The fight's over."

"No, it isn't!"

"It is for you." She had stood there through his railing, through his anger, through his desperation with a stoic detachment, calming explaining the facts as gently as possible. "Dean, you're not the first soldier I've plucked from the field. They all feel the same. They can't leave, victory hangs in the balance. But they're wrong. The battle goes on without them."

"My brother – he could die without me. And my cousin hasn't even woken up yet."

"Maybe he will. Maybe he won't. Nothing you can do about it." Dean wasn't sure who she was talking about, Sam or Harry but he decided to ignore her words. "It's an honorable death – a warrior's death."

Dean shifted away from her. "I think I'll pass on the seventy-two virgins, thanks. I'm not that into prude chicks anyway."

Tessa tilted her head a little. "That's funny. You're very cute."

"There's no such thing as an honorable death. I mean, my corpse is gonna rot in the ground and my family is gonna die...No. I'm not goin' with you. I don't care what you do."

She considered his words before walking towards him. "Well, like you said, there's always a choice. I can't make you come with me. But you're not getting back in your body. And that's just facts. So yes, you can stay. You'll stay here for years, disembodied, scared. And over the decades, it'll probably drive you mad. Maybe you'll even get violent."

Dean felt his stomach drop as her words sunk in. "What are you saying?"

"Dean, how do you think angry spirits are born? They can't let go, and they can't move on. And you're about to become one –the same thing you hunt."

Trying to deflect the issue, Dean asked another question, "Why can't I see Harry? Why isn't he here with me?"

Tessa smiled a sad small smile. "He is not mine to take. Nor is he close to death."

"What the hell does that mean? If he isn't yours, why'd you go into his room?"

"I wasn't there to take him but to help him. He reacted badly to my spirit but your presence calmed him."

Dean snorted. "No, happy medicine from the nice nurses calmed him. If he's not close to death why hasn't he woken up yet?"

"You never give up do you?" She asked smiling lightly at his antics.

"And you never give a straight answer."


	15. Part IV: Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "In My Time of Dying". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** I really hope people don't kill me after this chapter. Thanks to everyone who left a reveiw or even just simply read. Thanks to Kirallie for helping me to decide on the ending and of course betaing this for me. I hope I've explained everything sufficiently but in case I haven't feel free to drop me a line.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

"It's time to put the pain behind you," Tessa said softly as she and Dean sat on the bed in the darkened hospital room. They had been this way, at a standstill since Tessa's pronouncement and Dean's refusal to believe that's what he'd become. A spirit, a violent spirit. How long would it take? Would his father and brother hunt him; would they even be able to? Could he leave them? He'd promised he'd always protect them. Dean didn't think he'd been doing such a bang-up job lately but now that they were together as a family, it'd be alright, it'd get better. They'd have Harry to take care of.

"And go where?" Dean asked quietly, not quite believing he was actually thinking about leaving his family but he couldn't do it, he couldn't add to the shit they took down every week.

Tessa smiled slightly. "Sorry. Can't give away the big punch line." Pausing, she took a moment to consider her next words carefully. Her voice became a bit more detached, a bit more professional. "Moment of truth. No changing your mind later. So what's it going to be?"

Dean felt the weight of the moment settle on him. If he'd been in his body, he'd be having trouble breathing and probably sweating bullets. He thought about them, the ones he'd be leaving behind, his father who tried, he wasn't the world's best father by any stretch of the imagination but he tried; Sammy, the best and worst baby brother anyone could ask for, he could pitch a fit with the best of them one moment then turn around and kick your ass in the next; and Harry, Dean had only just met him, only just begun to realize that the boy needed them, he needed his family. He was going to leave them; Dean was going to leave his family. But he'd also be meeting a family, or so he hoped. He would see his mom and his aunt and his grandparents and all the people he couldn't save; Dean would see them and tell them everything he hadn't been able to in life. In the end, it all came down to a question: could he do it?

Taking a deep breath, his decision made, Dean turned to Tessa. Just as he opened his mouth, the lights began to flicker, throwing the room into further contrast between light and dark. Dean began look around standing from the bed, his instincts kicking in that told him something wasn't right. He glanced at Tessa who was looking distinctly worried.

"What are you doin' that for?"

"I'm not doing it," she responded shrilly, confirming his suspicions. Before either could utter another word, a bright light suddenly erupted in the corner of the room lacking any distinct shape but it quickly moved towards the pair.

"What the hell?" Dean muttered confused at what he was seeing. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. He looked towards Tessa, who was glaring at the light with a cold scrutinizing eye.

"You can't do this. Get away!" She stated harshly, as though she were speaking to a misbehaving child. As the light continued to advance however, her eyes grew wide and realization seemed to settle in their brown orbs.

"What's happening?" Dean knew what was going on wasn't supposed to and was scaring Death itself. The light engulfed her until it is shining out of every orifice of her body, her head thrown back in a silent scream. As it faded, she turned abruptly to Dean; her eyes a fathomless gray, and smirked. He stumbled back, instinctively knowing to get away from the thing possessing Tessa.

"Today's your lucky day kid." A slight accent tinged her voice before she crossed the floor in quick sure strides and smacked him slightly across the back of his head. Screaming, Dean sprang forward in his bed in his own hospital room, coughing and sputtering on the tube that was previously helping him to breath. Sam stared at his brother in shock. He'd wanted so desperately for him to wake up that'd he'd begun to pray, the only one in his family who did so but he never thought God would answer his prayers.

"Dean?" Sam asked before he realized his brother was alive and wake. Jumping up from his chair, he ran towards him shouting as he did so. "Help! I need help!" Doctors and nurses flooded the room, pushing Sam towards the back as they checked on their patient. Dean allowed them to poke and prod him as they checked him over so long as he was able to keep Sammy in his sights. His baby brother was watching him carefully, trying to hide the tears forming in his eyes but Dean caught them. For once he wouldn't rag on him about it.

**~*~*~**

Numerous tests and scans were done over the next several hours, leaving the brothers little time to talk but a few words were exchanged as Sam tried to explain the situation to his brother. Once Dean was settled back into his room, his doctor returned with all his information, a curious expression on his face. Glancing over his charts, the doctor looked between the two brothers. Shaking his head, he sighed heavily. "I can't explain it. The edema's vanished. The internal contusions are healed. Your vitals are good. You've got some kind of angel watchin' over you." Sam smiled before glancing up while Dean scoffed slightly, no angel had ever given a damn about him, why start now. No something else happened but for now he'd take what he could get.

"Thanks Doc," Dean said as the doctor left the room before turning to Sam. "So you said a reaper was after me?"

"Yeah," Sam affirmed slumping down into his seat.

"How'd I ditch it?"

"You got me." Sam leaned forward, staring at his brother intently. "Dean you don't remember anything?"

"No. Except this pit in my stomach," Dean said as a worried expression stole over his features. Fear was in his eyes, something his brother had seen a handful of times. "Sam, something's wrong."

A knocking sound filled the room and both boys turned towards the door where their father was standing. He was leaning heavily on a cane, his tired face lined with fatigue but he smiled upon seeing his oldest sitting up and awake. John knew his boys would hate him for what he'd done but seeing them whole and together made it all worth it. Now if only Harry would wake up…

"How you feelin', dude?" He asked as he entered. Dean raked his eyes over his father's body checking for hidden injuries; John was notorious for hiding where he was hurt. Impressed that his father really was doing alright, he replied evenly.

"Fine, I guess. I'm alive."

"That's what matters," John said nodding to himself.

"Where were you last night?" Sam asked abruptly. Dean sucked in a harsh breath. Not here, not now… Sam was staring at their father, his eyes filled with anger. John knew this would happen. He'd hoped it wouldn't but he knew it would. Sam was just like him, he had to know, had to question everything otherwise he assumed too much.

"I had something to take care of," John said hoping it would appease him. His youngest bristled at the brush off.

"Well, that's specific," he muttered. Dean had had enough.

"C'mon Sam," the middle Winchester said, reprimanding his brother for his attitude when everyone should be happy he was alive.

"Did you go after the demon?" Sam asked, disregarding Dean's plea.

"No." John's lips upturned slightly as he answered his son honestly for the first time in what felt like a long time. Okay, maybe not completely honestly, but c'mon he wasn't a saint.

"You know, why don't I believe you right now?" John figured he wouldn't but he wasn't going to lie to them, not now and not about this. They deserved that much. Dean sighed in disapproval but his father openly smiled, shaking his head.

"Can we not fight? You know, half the time we're fightin', I don't know what we're fightin' about. We're just buttin' heads." John watched as his boys sat up straighter, glancing at each other before staring at him intently. He knew that what he was saying would cause them to worry but it needed to be said. "Sammy, I...I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't wanna fight anymore, okay?"

"Dad, are you alright?" Sam asked concerned, his anger melting away at his father's honest words. Dean was right, something was wrong.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just tired." Sam nodded in understanding and John took a deep breath. It was now or never. "Hey, Sam, would you mind, uh…would you mind gettin' me a cup of caffeine?"

Getting up, Sam came around the bed. "Yeah. Yeah, sure." He smiled slightly at his father before edging out of the room. John tearfully followed him out with his eyes as Dean watched on with a worried expression.

"What is it?"

John turned back to Dean, seeing this blonde little boy waiting up for him after a hunt. He'd grown up into this strong dependable man who would stop at nothing to protect his family. John knew that Harry and Sam would be alright. "You know, when you were a kid…I'd come home from a hunt. And after what I'd seen, I'd be…I'd be wrecked. And you'd…come up to me, and you'd put your hand on my shoulder, and you'd look me in the eye, and you'd…" John's voice broke as he tried to tell his son something he should have been telling him all along. "…you'd say, 'It's okay, Dad.' Dean…I'm sorry."

Dean eyed him curiously. "For what?"

"You shouldn't have had to say that to me. I should've been sayin' that to you," John explained, swallowing his tears and smiling slightly. "You know, I put…I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, and you took care of me. You did that. And you didn't complain, not once." Dean shrugged his shoulders, not understanding where all of this was coming from, why his father was saying this to him. Of course he took care of Sammy; he was the big brother, that was his job. He watched as a single tear rolled down his father's face. "I just want you to know…that I am so proud of you."

"This really you talkin'?" Dean asked, his lips wobbling slightly as he tried to contain his emotions. John's smile was watery but his eyes crinkled in humor.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's really me."

"Why are you sayin' this stuff?" Dean asked as John shuffled closer laying his hand on his son's shoulder.

"I want you to watch out for Sammy and Harry, okay?"

"Yeah Dad, you know I will. You're scarin' me," Dean admitted as tears welled up in his eyes. John squeezed his shoulder in response.

"Don't be scared Dean." His father leaned across him and whispered into his ear. Dean listened carefully, wondering why he'd never told him before, why he wasn't telling Sam any of this. He suddenly pulled away slightly to stare at him in shock. No, he couldn't…he wouldn't… John straightened tears evident across his face and nodded. Dean knew his father was serious but he could see that it was killing him to say it to Dean. Turning John left the room without looking back, knowing if he did he wouldn't be able to leave.

"Okay," John muttered once he was alone, laying the colt onto a hospital bedside stand.

**~*~*~**

Sam mulled over his father's words in his head, replaying them as he tried to understand what he was saying to him. Why now? What caused him to change? What was he— Sam felt his stomach drop as he saw his father lying on the floor in a vacant hospital room. "Dad." The cup fell from his hands as he sprinted into the room, screaming as he did so. Bracing himself over his father's prone body, Sam yelled for help, tears falling down his face. Please, God not now, not when they'd just gotten Dean back, not when they were doing okay, not now, not ever, please!

Nurses and orderlies swarmed into the room, attempting to pull Sam away. He clutched at his father's shirt but he knew they couldn't help him if he was in the way. Wrenching himself away, Sam sprinted down the hall to Dean's room. Tear tracks evident on his face, Sam grabbed his brother's hand unable to tell him what was wrong. "Dad…Dad…" Dean leapt from the bed and nearly collapsed his body weak from the coma. Holding him up, Sam led him towards the room where he had found their dad.

Inside a few nurses and the doctor who had just been taking care of Dean were buzzing around their father who they had moved from the floor to the bed. Monitors were beeping erratically as they continued to do chest compressions. A nurse hurried over to stop them from entering but Dean stalled her.

"No, no, no, it's our dad. It's our dad!" Nodding, she left them to watch. Dean and Sam stared helplessly as their father didn't wake up.

"Okay, let's try again – an amp of atropine."

"C'mon," Dean muttered harshly. The doctor watched as a nurse administered something into an IV they'd attached to him, carefully listening for the heart monitor to indicate a pulse. After a few seconds, it became apparent nothing was going to happen.

"Okay, stop compressions.

"C'mon, c'mon," Dean tried again, refusing to believe his father was dead, staring hopefully at the heart monitor machine begging it not flatline but the single held note destroyed his hopes.

"Still no pulse."

"Okay, that's it, everybody. I'll call it. Time of death – 10:41 AM."

**~*~*~**

Dean and Sam found themselves sitting on either side of their cousin's bed, each in their own thoughts. Tears were freely streaming down Sam's face as he stared at a spot on the end of Harry's bed, while Dean was stoic, chaining his emotions so deeply inside himself, he couldn't open his mouth for fear he'd fall apart. Neither had moved since they had stumbled in after their father's death, wanting to stay close to Harry, lest he too slipped through their fingers. Every couple of hours, a nurse would come by to check on their patient but also to check on the brothers, offering them something to eat or drink or a shoulder to cry on. They were turned down each time.

The older nurse that had helped during Harry's seizure came to do one last round before she left for the day. Spotting them, she didn't have the heart to tell them visiting hours were over but instead laid some blankets on the bed should they want them in the night, closing the door softly behind her. Silence settled around the room before it was broken by a rushing sound coming from the foot of Harry's bed.

Sam and Dean stood abruptly as a bright light began to grow and change into two figures. Their tense faces morphed into ones of shock and disbelief as they recognized one of the figures.

"Dad?" Sam asked tightly.

"Hey Sammy," John said smiling. His face looked lighter than it had in years, less lines, less worry and tension, it was all gone, replaced by sheer bliss. The woman standing beside him was smiling as well though it looked like she had had more practice with it; her eyes were dancing as she took in the boys before her.

"Oh John, they're beautiful!" she exclaimed, her face moving back and forth between the two as though she couldn't decide which brother to settle on. She looked down and her features softened. "Oh baby..."

"Dad...? What's...? Who's...?" Sam couldn't settle on a question to ask as he took in his father and companion, though she looked strikingly familiar.

"Aunt Lily?" Dean muttered softly, disbelief coloring his voice.

Tearing her eyes away from her son, Lily stared into her nephew's eyes, so like her own. "Just like your father, you are, Dean," she started. "And yet, it's your mother that I see. Yes, I am your Aunt Lily."

"How are you here?" Sam asked meekly. For once, he looked small; his hulking frame seemed to shrink as he took in her serene presence.

"Let's just say I have some unfinished business to take care of," Lily responded as she rounded the bed to stand beside her son, laying her hand on Sam's arm to reassure him. John was standing next to Dean, squeezing his shoulder tightly. The younger man took a shuddering breath before squeezing his eyes shut against the tears. His father just continued to hang on.

"Harry, darling, it's time to wake up," she reached out and brushed his bangs off his face. His head moved as he tried to stay in contact with her hand. Smiling, she ran her hand through his hair rhythmically. "C'mon love, open your eyes, open them for me."

Black lashes fluttered in response before piercing green eyes opened, blinking blearily as Harry turned to look on either side of him at his surrounding family. He lifted his hand towards his mouth but Lily took his hand in hers. "No, baby that's supposed to be there. Welcome back."

Harry glanced at his uncle and cousins, questioning them with his eyes if this was real. Lily's smile deepened. "Yes, baby this is real. It was time for you to wake up."

He swallowed around the tube in his throat but somehow it didn't hurt. He turned back to his mother with fear in his eyes. "You've nothing to worry about. I know you're scared but that's what life is about, taking risks. I loved that about you, you got that from your father you know, and you wouldn't be you without it." He nodded slowly before he felt his eyes grow heavy.

Lily leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, "Sleep my child. We will always watch over you." Harry burrowed into the pillow, falling for the first time since the accident into a restful and pleasant sleep. Taking one last look at her son, she began to back away, standing once again at the foot of the bed.

John squeezed Dean's shoulder one more time before standing beside her. Sam darted forward, suddenly afraid of them leaving. John caught him and brushed the tears from his eyes. "It's okay, Sammy. It's all goin' to be okay."

"But Dad..." Sam tried, his voice pleading as he clutched tightly to his father's shirt. He hadn't acted like this since he was a child, begging his dad not to leave for a job. John lifted his hand, running it through Sam's hair before letting it fall to his shoulder. Sam swallowed, tears running silently down his face. Nodding, John backed away before clasping Lily's hand.

"Mary was right, never doubt that," John said before the light from before once again surrounded them and left the room in utter darkness.

**~*~*~**

The next morning, Dean awoke with a start, the blanket falling from his shoulders. He glanced over at his cousin who was sleeping soundly before noticing the empty chair. Just as panic lanced through his body, Sam ambled into the room, carrying two steaming cups of what passed for coffee in this hospital. Handing one to his brother, he asked, "No change?"

"Nope." Rolling his shoulders to work out the kinks of sleeping in a chair all night, he took a sip of the vile but necessary liquid. Sighing Sam fell into the chair, his long limbs sprawled out before him.

"C'mon dude, wake up," the younger brother muttered quietly, desperately. Dean stilled as he saw his cousin's eyes flutter.

Glancing at Sam, he said, "Say it again."

"What?"

"Say it again."

"Say what again?"

Sighing, Dean shook his head. "Fine. Harry, dude time to wake up." He didn't know where the words were coming from but it felt right somehow. Sam watched in confusion as his brother, his emotions-are-for-girls brother tried to coax their cousin awake. His confusion turned to awe as Harry's eyes twitched faster, trying to blink the sleep away.

"C'mon man, open your eyes." Green peeked through before clamping shut tightly against the bright hospital lights. He moaned as his hands flew to his throat, his head turning to try to get away from the harsh light. Dean grabbed his hands as he shouted.

"Hey, we need some help in here!" Harry's eyes opened again, fearfully searching for something familiar and falling on Sam.

"It's alright, they're coming." The boy nodded as he felt his hands shifted to another person, a woman. The nurse began to talk to him but he kept his eyes locked on his older cousins, shifting between Sam and Dean, both giving him silent support.

"Okay, honey, I need you to cough for me, a big cough now." Coughing, he felt the tube being pulled from his throat, causing it to burn. He continued to cough until it was removed and a straw was pushed into his line of sight. Sipping, the cool liquid flowed down his abused throat and he fell back against the pillows tiredly.

"Welcome back," the nurse said before checking his vitals. Harry didn't know why but those words felt wrong coming from her mouth but he was too tired to care. He didn't take his eyes off his cousins until he couldn't hold them open any longer. As he drifted into sleep, he knew they would be there when he woke up, no matter what.

**~*~*~**

Two figures watched from the corner of the hospital room as Harry was reunited with his cousins. The nurses and doctors bustling about the room took no notice of them, attending to their patient and trying to keep the brothers from getting in their way. Sam and Dean had sank back into their seats after Harry had fallen back asleep, his hands gripped tightly in theirs. Smiles lit upon the two figures' faces, knowing the three boys were going to be okay. While Harry would take a bit longer to heel than Dean had, now that his magic was no longer being used to protect Harry by cocooning him in safe, happy memories, the younger boy should bounce back relatively quickly.

"You know," John began, glancing down at his little sister before returning his eyes to his sons. "Your plan sucked."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Yes, because making a deal with a demon was _so_ much better," she responded. "For one thing, you're not in hell; and for another, you still get to protect your boys."

"Our boys," John amended, knowing he'd look after Harry just as much as he would Sam and Dean. "I still can't believe I'm a ghost, a freakin' ghost!"

"Oh honestly," Lily huffed, tired of John's complaining. "It's not that bad. It's not like you're going to turn violent or anything. You simply watch over them until they've completed their task. Then you come home."

"Oh, is that all?" the older man-now-ghost replied sardonically. "We've been chasing this demon for twenty three years."'

"And James and I watched over Harry for sixteen," Lily interrupted. "It's part of the deal we make when we die for our children. Our spirits can't rest until they're safe, at least from the threat we died from."

"And the Colt?" John asked. He could tell he was grating on his little sister's nerves as they had gone over all of this before he agreed to her plan, but as he'd never had a younger sibling before, he suddenly understood Dean's compulsive nature to poke and prod Sammy until the younger boy exploded. "Don't you think they kinda need that to kill the demon?"

Having put up with Petunia and James for years, Lily was able to clamp down on her frustration but having been dead for the last decade and a half, she was a little out of practice. Lily could feel herself reaching her breaking point. She growled in frustration. "You know that was out of my hands. Call it fate, call it destiny, call it whatever the hell you want, but you know the boys have to figure it out without the Colt." She sighed heavily and John looked down at her. She stared at her son and nephews a moment longer before turning towards her brother with a soft smile on her face. "It's time for me to go now, to rest."

John felt his heart constrict. He didn't know what he was doing, he didn't know how to be a ghost or how to protect them. He swallowed nervously, "Are you sure you can't stay a little bit longer?"

The red head reached up and placed her hand along her brother's cheek. "It'll be okay, you'll be okay. It's more about being there than anything else. And don't worry, you'll pick up a few tricks along the way."

"I feel like we just met," John started as Lily took a couple of steps back. "And you're already leaving."

"We'll have the rest of time to catch up. I love you big brother."

"I love you Lily…" John said sadly as a great light encompassed the woman. She turned her face reverently towards it and smiled as it bathed her. It disappeared as soon as it came, leaving John in sudden darkness. Staring at the spot where his baby sister had stood, John slowly turned to watch the boys. They hadn't noticed anything; they probably wouldn't notice anything. Not for a while yet. John hadn't been a ghost long enough to figure out how to move things or make himself appear. Though that was technically against the rules. Aw hell, rules were for bastards anyway. He'd been living by his own set for quite awhile now and they'd served him just fine. As long as nothing hurt his boys, he'd be willing to sit back and enjoy the show. Now he just had to figure out how to actually sit and he'd be golden.


	16. Part V: Chapter 15

******Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Everybody Loves A Clown". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Okay, so sorry for taking so long to update. This crazy thing called life got in my way and well, its really hard to sidestep it, believe me I tried! Anyway, here's the next part of the story. Magic will be become more prevalent as it progresses so please be patient. Thanks to everyone who reviewed; they certainly make my day! Thanks to Kirallie for going over this for me.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

**Part V: Everybody Loves A Clown**

**~*~*~**

_The secrets that you keep are at the ready_

_Are you ready?_

_I'm finished making sense_

_Done pleading ignorance_

_That whole...defense_

"_The Pretender" Foo Fighters_

_**~*~*~**_

Fire had always been a friend to Harry. When he was trapped in his cupboard for days on end, he'd light matches he'd snitched from his aunt. It provided a bit of warmth and light in a dark, cold and cruel world. Dumbledore used fire to banish the inferi from the island when they threatened to pull him under. Fawkes, a bird born of flame, was a constant and steady companion to him until Dumbledore's death. He'd never thought of fire in a negative light, not until now. Watching his uncle's body burn, Harry hated the fire in that moment. He hated that it was taking him away, that it was destroying what was left of his uncle, that it didn't bring life, instead it represented death.

Harry hadn't fully grieved for his uncle since learning about his death upon waking up in the hospital. He'd been slightly numb, partly due to his emotions, partly due to the pain medication the nurses had been plying him with. His injuries had gotten significantly better since he'd woken up; the doctor had been amazed that Harry's broken arm had healed up within days, though he had to wear a wrap as it was still sore and tender. A few days later, the Winchesters and Harry were checked out and they'd taken John's body. The younger boy refused to ride with his uncle's body back to Bobby's, taking Cedric's body back to Hogwarts had been bad enough; the older man had been understanding and made two trips, knowing neither of the brothers wanted to ride with their father either.

Tears streamed down Harry's impassive face as he silently stared at the funeral pyre. He listened to his cousin beside him as he openly showed his grief for his lost father. Sam was crying quietly, his soft brown eyes red from the tears. On Harry's other side, Dean was absolutely stoic. His face betrayed nothing and his hazel eyes were clear; he stood unmoving staring unseeing into the fire.

"Before…before he…" Sam faltered as he tried to say the one word that he couldn't. "Did he say anything to you? About anything?"

Dean remained silent. Harry glanced up at him until his cousin spoke, his voice cold and unfeeling. "No. Nothin'." Sam nodded and Harry's gaze returned to the fire. A single tear rolled down the now-oldest Winchester's face.

**~*~*~**

Stumbling into the bathroom, Harry lunged for the toilet, barely controlling his gag reflex long enough that his sick didn't end up all over Bobby's floor. Tears burned his eyes as vomit burned his throat as he continued to empty the contents of his stomach into the porcelin bowl. It was rare at Hogwarts that his visions ever induced a trip to the bathroom but it was common for his nightmares, particularly he found after witnessing someone die. The Durselys had ignored him as they didn't want to deal with or acknowledge their grieving nephew while his dormmates had grown used to it and had taken it in turns to check on him when it happened, Ron being the most frequent.

Spitting into the toilet to get the acrid taste from his mouth, Harry stood up, flushing the toilet. He glanced at the door noticing it was closed; his magic must have recognized his need for privacy. Splashing water on his face, Harry cupped his hands and took a deep gulp of water, being sure to swish it around his mouth for several minutes before spitting it out and repeating the process.

Once he was positive his mouth was as clean as possible without brushing his teeth, Harry stared at his reflection in the mirror. His green eyes were bloodshot and haggard, his unruly black hair even more so while his face looked sunken and pinched. The more he stared at his face, the more his emotions welled up within him. Before he was aware of what he was doing, Harry felt a sob-scream wrench itself from his body as his fist flew at the mirror. It cracked, spiderwebbing out from the impact but it didn't shatter. Angered, he hit it again and again. Soon, tears and blood flowed freely as almost animalistic sounds erupted from his throat.

Harry tried to block the images flashing through his mind but it seemed the harder he tried, the faster they came. Everyone who had died, everyone he hadn't been able to save, their faces smiled up at him before twisting, morphing into looks of anger and betrayal. His mother's green eyes that danced with happiness suddenly turned cold and detached; his father's ever-present look of mischief was replaced by one of utmost hatred; Cedric and Colin begged him to save them before realization settled in and they turned away; Sirius was falling, forever falling; Dumbledore and Remus surveyed him with disappointment as Tonks looked away with longing when a child's cry pierced the silence. And John. John stood away from the scene, taking in everything with that stoic calm that masked his boiling anger and need for revenge. Harry realized that as the faces faded their absense hurt more than their presence.

His vision cleared and Harry found himself glaring at a square of wall where the mirror had sat. The overwhelming sense of loss flooded him and he began to sink to the floor. However, before Harry's knees slammed into the jagged glass, strong arms encircled him and pulled him close, holding him securely. Harry sat with his back pressing into his savior's chest, sagging as emptiness flowed through him. He heard murmuring above him as fingers began to card through his hair. Turning, Harry pressed his face into the soft cotton t-shirt and brought his hand up to grip it tightly. Tears rolled down his cheeks but this time his anguish wasn't as violent.

"Shh, it's okay, I've got you." The words repeated themselves as Harry gripped the shirt tighter, the arm holding him bringing him closer. He had never felt so safe in his life.

After several minutes, his sorrow passed and Harry took deep breaths to calm his heart rate. He glanced up into the brown eyes of Sam, who was watching him for any signs of distress. The younger boy began to pull away, untangling himself from his cousin's embrace, and wiping his tears away with his hand accidentally smearing blood across his face.

"C'mon," Sam said helping him up. "Let's get you cleaned up and your hand looked at."

Harry allowed himself to be led from the room. In the hall, Bobby was standing off to the side with a broom and a dustpan. He smiled softly in reassurance but Harry didn't have the energy to respond. Sam pulled him into the bedroom the brothers shared when they visited, sitting the younger boy on the bed farthest from the door. Dean entered right behind them carrying a rather large first aid kit.

The youngest boy watched as his oldest cousin meticulously laid things out for easy reach while Sam left the room, returning moments later with a bowl of hot water. The two brothers worked silently together while Harry sat on the bed, his emotions spent for the time being. Dean gently wiped the blood from his right hand, pausing slightly to run his calloused fingers over the back of his hand.

The oldest felt his eyes harden as he made out the words etched into his cousin's hand, "I must not tell lies." Any other day, the scar would appear like a bad burn but under the hunter's scrutiny, the words were apparent. Harry was locked in a state of shock, barely recognizing either of them or what Dean had uncovered. He caught Sam's eye, who nodded to show he'd seen. The boy had a lot of explaining to do, regardless of whether he wanted to or not.

While his dark thoughts whirled around in his head, Dean's fingers gently tweezed small pieces of glass from Harry's hand, being careful to not cause him much pain, his hand was going to sore for days after this, Dean didn't want to add to it. Once all the glass had been removed and the blood wiped away, he began to methodically bandage the hand. Dean could tell his cousin was slowly falling asleep, the energy from his emotional outburst effectively draining him. Harry's eyes were fluttering and his head was nodding towards Dean's.

Deciding not to move him, Dean laid the younger boy on Sam's bed letting his brother clean up. As he was getting up to go back to his bed, Harry grabbed him.

"Don't go," he pleaded, his voice groggy from sleep but underlined with fear. "Don't leave me, please…"

"Shh…" Dean murmured, sitting beside his cousin gently carding his fingers through his black hair as Sam had done earlier. "I'm not going anywhere." Sighing, he leaned back against the headrest while Harry burrowed deeper under the covers as close to the man as the cloth barrier would allow. Dean glanced over at his younger brother who was pulling back the covers on Dean's bed.

"Don't even think it, dude," he muttered softly not to wake Harry. Sam stared at him incredulously. His brother could not possibly expect him to fit on that bed.

"Dude, there's not enough room!" Sam exclaimed.

"Get your ass over here," Dean replied evenly. The youngest Winchester was about to protest when he saw the resolve on the other man's face. His older brother had to be between them and the door. This was not a battle he was going to win.

Groaning Sam wedged himself between his sleeping cousin and the wall, having to lie on his side to find any comfortable position. The room was flooded in darkness a few minutes later as Dean lay down to sleep.

"This never leaves this room," Sam heard Dean softly say so as not to wake their cousin.

"Agreed," he responded.

"Hey Sam," this time it was a little quieter and the young man knew his older brother was about to say something he didn't often say.

"Yeah?"

"You did good."

"I learned from the best." Harry snuggled closer to Sam and he finally understood his brother. When he saw Harry in such pain, such raw emotional pain, Sam was ready to do anything to make it go away. He'd fight any demon, he'd agree to any deal, just to make whatever was causing his younger cousin's pain to end.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?" came the tired reply.

"Thanks."

"Go to sleep bitch."

"Jerk." Sam smiled before letting sleep take him, a feeling of completeness filling him in a way that hadn't since his father died. It was fleeting and disappeared as quickly as it came but it was there and that was enough for him for now.

**~*~*~**

The Impala was the one constant in Dean's life, when his mother had died, when Sammy had gone to school, when his father had left him alone, he'd always had the Impala. It was where he went when he wanted to get away from it all, when he needed to escape, when everything was too much. Dean had been out with the car since they'd returned home from the hospital. After Harry woke up and learned about his uncle's death, the kid had been silent, listlessly moving around the house. Just as Dean had spent all his time outside, Harry had been sitting morosely on the couch, staring out the window.

As Dean was attempting to put together their moving home, Sam strolled out of Bobby's house with his hands in his pockets, the screen door slamming behind him. "How's the car comin' along?" Sam asked once he reached Dean in the junkyard.

"Slow," came the tight response. Sam nodded as he swayed back and forth, trying to appear nonchalant, not that Dean could see him or would believe him if he had.

"Yeah? Need any help?" The brunette asked as a loud clunking sound came from under the hood as Dean removed a wrecked part from beneath the car.

"What? You under a hood?" Dean responded incredulously. It was common knowledge that Sam had not inherited the mechanic gene from their father. "I'll pass." Sam scrunched up his face in thought.

"You need anything else then?" Dean rolled out from under the car to stare up at his brother. He got up to get another tool ignoring him.

"Stop it Sam," he muttered.

"Stop what?" Sam's voice was innocently curious as he followed his brother.

"Stop askin' if I need anything, stop askin' if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise." Unlike before, Dean's voice wasn't expressionless; it sounded normal, he sounded alright, to a stranger. But to Sam, he could hear the truth was being hidden from him behind Dean's mask.

"All right, Dean," Sam conceded. "It's just… we've been at Bobby's for over a week now and you haven't brought up Dad once." Dean turned towards him nodding slowly, thoughtfully and wiping his hands.

"You know what, you're right," he said and Sam felt his hopes lift, praying his brother was finally ready to deal with their father's death. "C'mere. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug – maybe even slow dance."

"Don't patronize me Dean," Sam lashed out frustrated. "Dad is dead! The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're actin' like nothin' happened."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Say something, all right! Hell, say anything!" Sam responded barely letting Dean finish. "Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long, buried underneath this damn car!"

"Revenge huh?" Dean questioned after his brother finished his tirade.

"Yeah!"

"Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Are you makin' heads or tails of any of Dad's research? 'Cause I sure ain't. But you know what, when we do finally find it – oh no, wait. Like you said, the Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothin', Sam. Nothin', okay? So you know what? The only thing I can do is I can work on the car." Dean sat on his heels, about to lie down to return to his work when Sam spoke. His voice was subdued, sufficiently chastised.

"Well, we've got somethin', all right? That's what I came out here to tell you." Reaching into his pocket, Sam pulled out a red flip-phone punching in a few numbers before handing it to Dean. "It's one of Dad's old phones. It took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this."

His brother held the phone to his ear and listened as a female voice came from on the line. "_John, it's Ellen…again. Look, don't be stubborn. You know I can help you. Call me._"

"That message is four months old," Sam added as he took back the phone.

"Dad saved that chick's message for four months?" Dean asked shocked.

"Yeah."

"Well, who's Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad's journal?"

"No, but I ran a trace on the phone number and I got a hit." Dean nodded before shrugging.

"Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars."

Sam wandered back into the house while Dean wiped his hands on an old rag, stained with black oil and grease. Harry was sitting on the couch staring out the window but he glanced up when he heard Sam enter. His older cousin smiled and Harry attempted a slight smile but it came out more like a grimace. Sam nodded as he flopped down on the couch next to him surveying his bandaged hand sitting in his lap.

"How you doing?" Sam asked quietly, his brown eyes watching Harry through his bangs.

"Fine," came the automatic reply. Sam was about to push him for a real answer when Bobby entered before he got a chance. Neither Harry nor Dean were dealing with John's death. All the life seemed to deflate from Harry while Dean only worked on his damn car. Sam was barely holding it together but he knew that they couldn't manage if they all lost it.

"You talk to your brother?" asked Bobby, his voice gruff with worry.

Sam snorted while rolling his eyes. "Depends on your definition of 'talk'." Bobby eyed him and Sam sighed. "We're going to need to borrow a car. There's someone who may know something."

"Well, I only got—"

"Where are we going?" Harry asked quickly. He was looking at Sam desperately, his green eyes imploring his cousin. Sam swallowed nervously. It was the most emotion he'd seen from his cousin in days. "I'm going with you right?"

"Of course you are," Dean answered, his tone of voice not leaving any room for negotiation. Sam opened his mouth before snapping it closed as he caught sight of his brother's glare and Harry's relieved sigh. Dean wasn't going to let Harry out of his sight after his kidnapping and their father's death. Too many people had been taken from him in the past week and a half, Dean needed the comfort of knowing exactly where his cousin was, that is with him, otherwise he'd completely lose it. Sam knew from firsthand experience that Dean's breakdowns were spectacular and didn't want to deal with it.

"So Bobby, you got a car for us?"


	17. Part V: Chapter 16

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Everybody Loves A Clown". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Spring break is an amzing thing! I love being able to write uninhibited without worrying about school work or deadlines. Anyway, this chapter is longer than normal so hopefully it makes up for the shortness of the last one. Big thank you to everyone who reviewed. I love hearing what you guys have to say, be it good or bad! Also thanks to my amazing beta, Kirallie.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

"This is humiliating!" Dean groused frustrated that his car had been completely totaled in the accident and they'd had to borrow this monstrosity of a vehicle. The screeching tires were particularly grating. Slamming the car into park and throwing the keys onto the dash unafraid anyone would try to steal it, Dean stomped out of the car. "I feel like a friggin' soccer mom!"

"It's the only car Bobby had running," Sam explained as he climbed out of front seat and waited while Harry opened the sliding door and slid from the middle bench seat. They both smiled at each other before following after Dean into the restaurant. Sam's information had led them to someplace called Harvelle's Roadhouse in central Nebraska. Harry surveyed the exterior as they approached the front door. It had the appearance of an old time saloon with the neon lights of Vegas. Overgrown weeds and dried brush surrounded the front door while the wooden panels were nearly falling apart yet the place looked sturdy enough.

"Hello? Anyone here?" Sam called as he glanced in the windows and around the side. Harry didn't see any movement and he figured someone had to have heard them drive up.

"Hey," Dean beckoned them towards the front door and Sam and Harry hurried over.

"Yeah?"

"You bring the uh…?" Dean glanced at Harry as the younger boy glanced between the two. Whatever Dean wanted he didn't want Harry to know about it so the brothers were communicating with their eyes. In the all the years he and his friends had done that very same thing, Harry had never realized how frustrating it was to be the odd man out.

"Of course." Sam pulled a small case from his pocket and Dean moved to stand in front of Harry to block it from view but the young boy got a good look of the lock picking tools his cousin had in his hands. Harry smiled slightly as he shook his head. Honestly if they knew how many places he'd broken into…

Harry heard the tell tale sound of a lock being sprung before Dean gently pushed the door open. Sam stood and entered before his brother and Dean made sure to keep Harry behind him as he followed. The room had a basic bar set up with tables and chairs, dartboards, and a large bartop behind which a large mirror and numerous bottles of liquor sat. In the corner was a jukebox and towards the back, Harry could see a pool table where a man appeared to sleeping. His cousins edged closer.

"Hey buddy?" Sam said quietly and after a beat of silence glanced back towards Dean. "I'm guessin' that isn't Ellen." Dean hmmed as he continued to survey the place. Sam looked to his right and decided to look around the other room_. _Harry wandered back towards the bar and started behind it noticing something on the ground. Crouching, Harry opened his mouth but stilled when he heard a boot scuff against the floor.

Dean heard the same noise and glanced towards where he saw Harry heading. He couldn't see or hear the boy so he figured he was out of sight. He felt a hard metal object being pushed into the middle of his back and Dean shook his head. "Oh God please let that be a rifle," he muttered glancing heavenward.

"Nah, I'm just real happy to see you," a young female voice responded just before she cocked it. She pushed it forward a little more, throwing him off balance slightly. "Don't move."

"Not moving, copy that," Dean said raising his hands to the side in a show of good faith and surrender. "You know, you should know somethin', Miss. When you put a rifle on someone, you don't wanna put it right against their back. 'Cause it makes it real easy to do…" He spun around quickly bringing his hands down to grip the rifle tightly. Using his momentum he was able to wrench it from her grip and Dean unloaded one of the bullets, the tinkling sound skirting across the floor as it scattered away. "That."

The girl brought her hand up unexpectedly and quickly jabbed him right in the nose before taking the rifle back. She aimed it at his chest while Dean brought his hands up to his face as his eyes began to water. Goddamnit that hurt!

"Sam!" He called. "I need some help in here!" He cupped his hands, praying she didn't break his nose. "I can't even see, I can't even see…" A swinging door opened and Sam shuffled across the floor, his hands interlocked behind his head, looking sheepish.

"Sorry, Dean. I can't right now. I'm, uh…a little tied up," his younger brother responded. An older woman was holding a pistol to his head and followed him out. Sam's brown eyes glanced around the room quickly before settling on Dean questioningly. The blonde looked significantly at the bar before staring hard into Sam's eyes. The younger Winchester's lips thinned in acknowledgement.

"Sam? Dean?" The older woman asked curiously, glancing between the two men held at gunpoint. "Winchester?"

"Yeah…" they responded in unison wondering how she knew them.

"Son of a bitch…" she breathed out. The younger woman's stance faltered for a moment as she eyed all of them.

"Mom, you know these guys?"

"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's boys." Both boys turned to stare at her and she lowered the gun laughing. "Hey, I'm Ellen. That's my daughter, Jo."

Jo lowered the rifle, nodding at each of them. "Hey."

Dean eyed her warily before looking her up and down, straightening to his full height. "You're not gonna hit me again are you? Harry?"

A black shaggy head popped up from behind the counter. Jo quickly turned the rifle on the boy while Ellen raised a blonde brow. Harry raised his hands quickly while Dean bristled at the apparent threat. Jo lowered the rifle seeing the age of the boy.

"Boy you better have a damn good reason for bein' behind my bar," Ellen said bluntly. Harry blushed before shuffling out and standing beside Dean, glancing at Jo who smiled as she surreptitiously tried to put the rifle behind her back.

"No ma'am," he muttered. She reminded him strongly of Mrs. Weasley – a no-nonsense woman who would just as likely hug you as hit you. Smirking she made her way around the bar, indicating they take a seat on the barstools in front. Harry climbed up beside Dean while Ellen ruffled around in a cooler.

Returning to the bar, she handed Dean an icepack for his abused nose. "Here you go."

Accepting it gratefully, he pressed it gently to his face. "Thanks. You called our dad and said you could help – help with what?"

"Well…the demon, of course," Ellen responded in shock. There was only thing John would want help with, any other hunt he'd just as soon half-kill himself before asking for help. "I heard he was closin' in on it."

Dean stared at her in shock. "Was there an article in _The Demon Hunter's Quarterly_ that I missed? I mean, who are you? How do you know about all this?"

Ellen's eyebrows rose at Dean's words, scoffing at his abruptness. "Hey, I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again, including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once. Though he never mentioned you…" She glanced towards Harry, catching his eye and giving him a significant look. His green eyes hardened as he straightened to his full though slightly unimpressive height keeping his mouth firmly shut.

"Oh, yeah? How come he's never mentioned you before?" Dean said drawing Ellen's gaze back to him. He ignored the prompt for more information, not about to let anyone know about his cousin until he knew they weren't going to hurt him. Dean knew his father had kept most of the hunting community away from him and Sam but there was more to the story, if his dad was really like family to this woman.

"You'd have to ask him that," Ellen responded evenly, being careful to keep her attention focused on Dean. Both brothers and Harry glanced down, their expressions losing their fierceness as pain filled their faces. Sam watched as Harry's mouth hardened into a thin line and he swallowed thickly while Dean returned the ice pack to his face passively. Sensing the change in atmosphere, Ellen and Jo stood straighter.

"So why exactly do we need your help?" Dean asked, trying to get back to why they were here. Once they got the information they came for, they could go back to Bobby's and Dean could return to working on the car.

"Hey, don't do me any favors. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if…" Ellen trailed off as she realized something. "He didn't send you. He_ is_ all right, isn't he?" She finally understood their expressions, their confusion about who and what she was, why they kept changing the subject when John came up.

Sam looked up, tears glistening in his eyes as he swallowed thickly. "No. No, he isn't." Harry turned and stomped towards the jukebox, staring unseeing into it. Dean followed him with his eyes and listened as Harry sniffled quietly. "It was the demon, we think. It, um...just got him before he got it, I guess."

"I'm so sorry," Ellen said glancing between the three boys. She could see they were all hurting from the loss.

"It's okay, we're alright," Dean said after gaining control of his emotions and pushing them deep inside. Sam looked away, not trusting himself if he opened his mouth.

"Really," the older woman tried again. "I know how close you and your dad—"

"Really, lady, I'm fine!" Dean said, cutting her off. Ellen sighed but didn't press the subject. Sam looked up under his bangs, his big brown eyes expressive.

"So, look, if you can help…we could use all the help we can get."

"Well, we can't," Jo smiled with her mother as they watched the brothers share a confused look. Harry had yet to turn back from the jukebox. "But Ash will."

Sam leaned forward. "Who's Ash?"

"Ash!" The man that Sam had tried to rouse earlier jerked awake, rolling over onto his back and staring around him, his eyes tired and his face long. Harry turned to stare at him with the other two.

"What? Closin' time?" His southern accent was thick with sleep. His hair was fashioned in a mullet and his red plaid shirt was ripped at the sleeves. Harry felt a smile tugging at his lips for the first time since he'd entered the bar.

"That's Ash?" The incredulity was evident in Sam's voice as he took in the man before him. Dean looked towards Jo for confirmation.

"Mm-hmm. He's a genius," Jo replied smiling. She loved when hunters came in here, acting like hotshots and find that Ash is smarter than most of them combined. The Winchesters appear to be no different. They watched as he stumbled off the pool table and shook his head like a dog shaking water from his ears. Once he was sufficiently awake, he moved toward the bar and sat gingerly on a stool. All the time being carefully watched by Sam and Dean.

Smiling, Dean shared a look with Sam and Harry. "He's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie!" Ash let out a loud chuckle as he turned to Dean.

"I like you."

"Thanks," Dean responded. The man before him may look like a redneck from the hills but at least he had a sense of humor.

"Just give him a chance," Jo cut in, sensing what was on Dean's mind. He sat down beside the other man, surveying him for a minute before sliding over a thick tan file-folder.

"All right. This stuff's about a year's worth of our dad's work, so, uh…let's see what you make of it." Ash opened it up and flipped through the papers inside, giving them a quick perusal as his expression showed his surprise.

"Come on. This crap ain't real. Ain't nobody can track a demon like this," Ash exclaimed impressed continuing to read what was written in front of him." Sam and Dean shared a significant look as Harry watched on.

"Our dad could," Sam responded. Harry smiled softly as he thought of the intelligence and ingenuity of his late uncle. Hermione would have loved to pick his brains while Ron would have wanted to talk strategy. Harry stopped thinking about his friends and family; it hurt too much.

"These are nonparametric statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations," the three younger boys stared in shock while Ellen and Jo smiled at their expressions. "I mean…damn. They're signs –- omens. If you can track 'em, you can track this demon –- you know, like crop failures, electrical storms. You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun."

"Can you track it or not?" Sam asked, sure now that Ash was capable if he said he was. He nodded his head slowly, his eyes darting over the information excitedly.

"Yeah, with this, I think so. But it's gonna take time. Uh, give me… fifty-one hours." Gathering up all the papers, he stuffed them back into the folder and walked out of the room, his head filled with stats and information. Sam and Dean sat in shock while Harry joined Jo and Ellen in smiling. Dean cleared his throat before Ash got to the door.

"Hey man."

"Yeah?" Ash asked turning to face them.

"By the way, I, uh…I dig the haircut." Ash made a face holding his arms out to the side.

"All business up front," he ran his hand through his hair before flipping it over his shoulder. "Party in the back." Dean shook his head as he watched Ash leave while Sam shared a smile with Harry. Jo grabbed a bucket and rag to go wipe down the tables and Dean followed her with his eyes. Sam spotted something towards the back of the bar.

"Hey Ellen." She turned from where she was pouring salt into shakers. ""What's that?" She glanced behind her where he was indicating then turned back shrugging.

"Police scanner. We keep tabs on things—"

Shaking his head, Sam motioned towards a folder sitting beside the scanner. Dean shrugged before getting up and taking his glass of water with him, settled at a table to watch Jo work. "No, no, no, no. The folder." Ellen grabbed the folder and brought it over to him and Harry.

"Uh…I was gonna give this to a friend of mine, but take a look if you want," Ellen said as she laid the file down in front of him before returning to the shakers.

"Thanks." Sam opened the folder and Harry leaned over to read what was inside when Sam's phone began ringing shrilly. The room stilled while Sam grabbed the phone from inside his pocket. His brow wrinkled in confusion as a number appeared on the screen he didn't recognize.

"Hello?" Sam's face transformed from caution to understanding to what was being said on the other end. "Yes…mmm hmm…alright, hold on." He held the phone out to Harry who stared at him warily. "It's for you."

Harry took the phone, curious who would be calling him using his cousin's phone."Hello?"

"_Harry_!" Hermione's voice shrieked through the line. "_We were worried…okay I was worried_," she amended as Harry heard Ron through the line and knew his friend was objecting to being lumped with his girlfriend. "_Are you alright_?"Even though he knew she couldn't see him, Harry shrugged in response.

"How did you get this number?" Harry asked, not answering the question. Sam flipped through the folder while Dean was sitting at another table sipping his drink. Just as before, Harry knew his cousins were listening in but this time he didn't care.

"_It was on my phone from before_," Hermione explained, rushing on before he could interrupt. "_You are alright, aren't you? Harry…_?"

"I'm fine," he said shortly.

"_Harry, I've known you for six years, we went through war together. I know you're not fine. What happened_?"

"Nothing," Harry sighed heavily, his heart constricting as he thought of his uncle. "I don't want to talk about it, I can't…not yet."

He could hear the resignation in her voice. "_Alright, alright, as long as you're sure. You want to talk to Ginny_?"

"Not really," he muttered before he could stop himself. He winced as he heard Hermione's response.

"_Oh_." Ginny was in the room with Hermione. He could feel Hermione's nervous expression through the phone and knew she was trying to cover-up his slip.

"Put her on." Harry waited a minute before pasting on a smile that Ginny couldn't see. "Hey love."

After ten awkward minutes, Harry hung up feeling a sense of relief. It wasn't from talking with Ginny as it normally was but rather because he was finished talking to her. For some reason he hadn't felt happiness and peace. Instead of trying to figure out why, Harry handed the phone back to Sam and grabbed the folder. Dean watched his cousin and brother, allowing Sam to deal with the young boy before turning to Jo.

"How'd your mom get into this stuff, anyway?" Dean asked. She glanced at him, surveying him slightly before leaning cocking her hip against the edge of the table and folding her arms over her chest.

"My dad," she responded quietly. "He was a hunter. He passed away." Dean recognized Jo's stance; it was one he'd used for years. It shielded him from people's pity once they found out about his mom and left little room for asking more questions.

"I'm sorry," Dean said honestly.

"It was a long time ago." Jo shrugged, brushing aside his apology, smiling politely. "I was just a kid." She began wiping down the table again, letting her blonde hair shield her face. "Sorry to hear about your dad."

Dean sat back in his seat, swallowing. "Yeah." He paused, looking around the bar before catching Jo's eye. "So listen, I got fifty-one hours to waste, maybe tonight we should, uh…" Jo stared at him calculatingly, one blonde brow arched in anticipation as she waited for what she was sure was going to be a stellar pick-up line. However, Dean's smile faltered and he glanced down before lifting his head with it back in place. "No, you know what, never mind."

"What?" she asked him curiously. Not many guys came in here and didn't hit on her, kinda made her wonder why this one did.

"Nothing," Dean said shaking his head. "Just, uh…wrong place, wrong time."

"You know, I thought you were gonna toss me some cheap pickup line," Jo said. Dean scoffed at the idea while she watched on smiling. "Most hunters come through that door think they can get in my pants with some pizza, a six-pack, and side one of Zeppelin IV."

"What a bunch of scumbags," deadpanned Dean as she smirked at him, knowing he'd probably tried that at some point in time with some waitress in some backcountry town.

"Not you?"

Shrugging, Dean glanced away. "Guess not." His stare turned to the table top as Jo watched him contemplatively. Before he could sink too deeply into his sadness, Sam called him from the bar.

"Dean, c'mere. Check this out." His brother wandered over and stood between Sam and Harry.

"Yeah?"

"A few murders not far from here that Ellen caught wind of," he looked up at his older brother, waiting for his approval. "Looks to me like there might be a hunt."

"Yeah, so?" came the response; it was not one he was expecting. Dean loved the hunt, he thrived on it and now he didn't even care? Their father's death was hitting him worse than Sam thought.

"So, I told her we'd check it out," Sam replied evenly.

**~*~*~**

Later that evening, the three of them were back in the minivan after Dean was unable to convince Ellen to let them borrow her truck and driving towards the hunt in the rain. Sam had read his cousin and brother the details of the police reports and what he'd gathered in the short time before they'd left. Both Harry and Dean were a bit skeptical of his findings.

"C'mon you gotta be kiddin' me? Killer clowns?"

"Yeah," Sam responded reading the reports under the meager light of his flashlight while Harry leaned forward trying unsuccessfully to see the report. "He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents…ripped them to pieces, actually."

"And this family was at some carnival that night?" Dean questioned.

"Right, right. The Cooper carnival."

"So how do you know we're not dealin' with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?"

Nodding, Harry added his two cents wanting to be a part of this hunt and not just brought along for the ride as the brothers had apparently wanted. "I agree with Dean. That seems the more likely scenario."

"Well," Sam started preparing to dispute them. "The cops have no viable leads, and all the employees were tearin' down shop , alibis all around. Plus, the girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are sayin' trauma, of course." Huffing in annoyance, Harry thought back to all the supernatural creatures he'd studied and couldn't think of any one that would impersonate a clown; in fact he couldn't recall any person that would do that either. Death Eaters didn't exactly care about tricking people in order to get into the house or not and he didn't think any self respecting one would dress up like a muggle circus performer.

"Well, I know what you're thinkin' Sam," Dean said before smiling at him. "Why'd it have to be clowns?"

Scowling, Sam turned back to his notes while Harry leaned forward again, a smile firmly in place. "Give me a break."

"What?" Harry asked excitedly, turning towards Dean figuring he'd give him the story. Sam glared at him.

"You didn't think I remembered did you?" Dean caught Harry's eye in the rearview mirror. "Sam here still busts out cryin' whenever he sees Ronald McDonald on the television."

"Really?" Harry responded turning back to Sam who sat deeper in his seat to hide his discomfort.

"Oh, yeah," Dean added. "All the time."

Sam shifted towards him. "At least I'm not afraid of flying." Harry's eyes got large as he thought of all the implications this would mean for future pranks, although this might cut down on his own flight time.

"Planes crash!" Dean burst out.

"And apparently clowns kill," Sam responded in his most logical voice, the one he used when he wanted to annoy his brother. Harry snorted listening to the banter between the brothers. Sam glanced at him in rearview mirror and raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What are you afraid of?"

The black haired youth was taken aback. When he'd had to face the boggart, Harry had to think about what he was afraid of but he didn't think Dean meant dementors. What was he scared of? Then he remembered the thing he was most afraid of when he was little, before Hogwarts.

"Why…?" Harry asked drawing it out, knowing it would upset his cousins. They didn't disappoint.

"Dude, you are so not getting out of this," Dean said.

"You should just give in," cautioned Sam, whose advice was tempered by the smile on his face. Harry knew they would get him back for knowing their fears, especially Sam since he'd ribbed him about it. "He won't let it alone."

Harry bit his lower lip, trying to hide his smirk. He sobered his face and tried to look anxious. "Alright." He paused, hesitating. He'd never told anyone his fear before, not even Hermione and Ron. While he'd been joking before, he was actually nervous about letting them know.

"Well…" Dean prompted.

"The dark…" Harry muttered, nearly silently. Dean and Sam glanced at each other.

"What?"

"The dark!" Silence followed his words before snorts could be heard from the front seat. The younger boy slumped in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "At least it's not clowns or planes," he muttered.

"You sure you don't need Sammy back there with you?" Dean asked laughter evident in his voice. Harry glared. Still smiling, Dean returned to the matter at hands.

"So these types of murders, they ever happen before?"

"Uhh," Sam quickly read through the papers in his lap. "According to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers circus. Same M.O. It happened three different times, three different locales."

"It's weird though," Dean commented. "I mean, if it is a spirit, it's usually bound to a specific locale, a house or a town."

"Why?" Harry asked, thinking about the ghosts he'd come in contact with. He didn't think the Hogwarts ghosts were bound to the school, though they never left.

Sighing, Dean glanced at Sam. "They normally are attached in death to a place or thing that was of great importance to them when they were alive."

"So it doesn't necessarily have to be where they died?" harry asked. It made sense that all the ghosts would return to Hogwarts after their deaths as it was the most significant place to each of them.

"No," Sam responded. They'd glossed over ghosts in their little review session figuring most people got the gist of what a ghost was but Harry didn't appear to understand the more detailed facts of ghosts whereas he knew the ins and outs of werewolves. They'd need to do a more thorough lesson before any more hunts, not that they'd expected to go on this one. However, Harry and Sam seemed to have inherited the same stubborn gene since they both wore the same expression when they were about to settle in for the long haul. Dean figured he'd let Sam get a taste of his own medicine and let him tell Harry no; Sam had caved faster than he thought and Dean didn't have the energy to fight with the younger boy on this. Plus he felt better knowing Harry was with them rather than a pair of strangers. "So, how's this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?"

"Cursed object, maybe?" Dean thought for a second before continuing. "Spirit attaches itself to something and the carnival carries it around with them."

"Great," Sam said heavily. "Paranormal scavenger hunt." Harry sighed as he thought of how difficult it was going to be to find the cursed object. It hadn't exactly been easy locating the Horcruxes; it'd taken them nearly a full year.

"Well," Dean shook his head. "This case was your idea. By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job."

"So?" Sam asked. Harry decided to stay out of it and let the brothers handle this one on their own. He had a pretty good idea but wasn't about to speak for his cousin.

"It's just not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt." Sam seemed taken aback for a moment before he responded.

"I don't know. I just think, taking this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do."

"What Dad would have wanted?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Yeah, so?" Dean was quiet after Sam's question before glancing in the mirror at their cousin who was trying real hard to not make eye contact with him. He knew the toll their father's death had taken on the kid and he didn't need them fighting to add to it.

"Nothing."


	18. Part V: Chapter 17

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Everybody Loves A Clown". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Here's the latest part. In honor of Supernatural returning next week, the chapter everyone is waiting for will also be next week; however, in compensation, this chapter is nice and long. I hope everyone enjoys it! Thanks for all your awesome reviews. I hadn't realized quite how many people didn't like Ginny, or at least Ginny with Harry! Oh well, you live and learn...Thanks to my amazing beta, Kirallie for going over this.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

Dean and Sam had only been to a carnival once when they were growing up. After a particularly gruesome hunt in which their dad got hurt pretty bad and was laid up for several days, Dean decided to take his little brother to a local carnival. The small child had been a handful, especially when John was home, often sticking to his side like glue or following him around. Sam had grown out of this by the time he'd reached puberty in which he switched his attention to Dean who at the time hadn't been amused.

Sammy had been six. While he was excited to see his first carnival, the little boy was sad his father couldn't come and was determined to win him something to bring back. Dean used what little spending money they had to buy his little brother tickets to get on a few rides, buy a blue cotton candy (pink is for girls!) and had some left over for the games. Sam remembered that day like it was yesterday. It had been one of his favorite memories, even the clowns were funny, from a distance of course. When they'd come back, Sammy babbled a mile a minute to their father about their exploits while Dean dished up the soup heating on the stove. The small family had eaten it together on John's bed, although Sammy didn't have nearly as much due to the cotton candy that still stained his mouth a deep blue. John had smiled listening to his youngest while catching Dean's eye, nodding in approval. He'd needed the quiet in order to rest and knew his youngest wouldn't have been able to keep still that long. At the end of the meal, Dean pulled out a large green panda that he'd bribed one of the carnies to give him for Sam. His little brother's eyes grew to the size of saucers. Sammy had immediately wanted to give it to John but he'd been able to talk him into sharing it with him, with Sammy having it first. It had been a good day.

Pulling up in the screeching minivan, Sam, Dean and Harry stared out at the carnival being taken down. Not many people were there and the dust swirled up as a slight breeze swept through. Sam remembered the carnival being brighter with more lights and sounds; this one looked slightly rusty and more than a little creepy. Across the lot, they say two men being questioned by people who could only be described as cops due to their dark suits in this weather.

"Check it out – five-oh," Dean said before sliding from the car. They walked in the opposite direction, Missouri still strong in their minds then split up while Dean went to find out what happened. Sam stared up at the Zipper, watching as it tipped and spun riders as it moved. He hadn't been tall enough to go on most rides when they'd gone as children and Dean didn't want to leave him alone so they'd stuck to the kiddie rides. Sam wondered if it was fun. Harry was thinking the same thing. The only place the Dursleys had ever taken him was to the zoo when he was ten and it hadn't exactly ended well.

A woman came around the side of the ride he was standing next to and stared up at him as she approached. Being almost half his height, she was dressed in a bright blue and magenta costume. Swallowing thickly, Sam tried not to show his nervousness while she stopped to scrutinize him. She shook her head before walking away. Looking away, Sam let out the breath he'd been holding just as Dean came back. Sam took in his brother's jovial smile as he bumped shoulders with their cousin who had an equally mischievous smile.

"Did you get her number?" Ignoring him, Sam sighed knowing whatever had happened hadn't been good no matter how cheerful his brother appeared.

"More murders?" he asked. Dean settled beside them, leaning against the railing of the Scrambler his expression dampened.

"Two more last night. Apparently, they were ripped to shreds, and they had a little boy with them," Dean acknowledged.

"Who fingered a clown." Both Harry and Dean turned to stare at Sam after his odd pronouncement. While it wasn't the strangest thing he'd heard – he was friends with Luna after all – it was up there. "What?"

"Yes, a clown who apparently vanished into thin air." Harry tilted his head to the side as he thought about what his cousin said.

"Dean, you know, looking for a cursed object - it's like tryin' to find a needle in a stack of needles. It could be anything," Sam said exasperated. This hunt was not shaping up to be the easy salt-n-burn he thought it was going to be.

"What if it's not a ghost?" Harry asked. He thought about who or what had the ability to vanish. Wizards obviously could vanish when they apparate, disillusion themselves or simply throw on an invisibility cloak but all those actions would have a secondary action, like the popping noise, waving a wand or having a cloak, that would have been mentioned by the children. Creatures like the demiguise and diricawl can make themselves invisible but do not look humanoid nor like clowns. Peeves, though…he looked human and he could vanish whenever he wanted. He might even find it humorous to dress up like a clown. "What about a poltergeist?" The brothers stared at Harry for a moment. Neither of them had considered it wasn't a ghost, although a poltergeist wasn't much different.

"We still get rid of 'em the same way," Dean responded. "They'd still have to be bound to something to keep them here. And a cursed object is still our best bet." He pulled out a small device from his coat pocket. It had little red LED lights on top and a meter on the front. "Well, it's bound to give off EMF, so we'll just have to scan everything."

Scoffing, Sam turned away while Harry stared at the meter curiously. Growing up, he hadn't had much in the way of electronics but he'd seen the stuff his cousin had. Dudley would have given his right arm for an EMF meter, even if he didn't know what it did, it still looked cool. "Oh, that's good; nice and inconspicuous."

Some workers caught Dean's eye and he saw a notice stapled to a post of the tent they were leaving. "Guess we'll just have to blend in."

"You've got to be joking," Harry muttered catching sight of the "Help wanted" sign. Dean smirked at him before wandering towards the tent with his cousin and brother glumly following behind him.

Inside a man was throwing knives at a target, his dark sunglasses covering most of his face. Harry watched as they embedded themselves in the board rather deeply and were clustered nicely. This was a man who knew what he was doing. Dean approached him.

"Excuse me." The man turned slightly but didn't face Dean. "We're lookin' for a Mr. Cooper; you seen him around?"

Dropping his hand that was holding the knife, the man reached for his glasses. "What is that? Some kind of joke?" Taking off the glasses, the three boys were able to see his hazy eyes that indicated he was blind. Dean felt himself blanch as he thought about what he'd said.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"You don't think I'd give my eye-teeth to see Mr. Cooper or a sunset or anything at all?" Sam caught Harry's eye as they watched Dean flounder under the older man's scrutiny.

"Wanna give me a little help here?" Dean muttered to them but both shook their heads.

"Nope," Harry responded.

"Not really," Sam added. Dean smiled and nodded at them, knowing they were going to let him take the fall for this.

"Hey Barry?" They all turned to face the entrance of the tent and watched as another person entered. It was a little person dressed in blue tights and a sequined cape holding a prop piece. "Is there a problem?"

"Yeah," Barry responded. "This guy hates blind people." Dean turned quickly back to him, smiling appeasingly and chuckling slightly like it was all an inside joke.

"No I don't—"

"Hey buddy, what's your problem?" The man asked stepping forward angrily.

"Nothing, just a little misunderstanding."

"Little?" he asked. Harry choked back his laugh. Dean was digging himself a deeper hole. He raised the prop over his head. "You son of a bitch!"

"No, no, no! Could somebody tell me where Mr. Cooper is?" Finally Sam and Harry couldn't hold it in; they burst out laughing seeing Dean getting schooled by some circus folk. "Please?"

**~*~*~**

"You boys picked a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat. We got all kinds of local trouble." After some quick talking and Sam explaining the situation, they found where the office was. Mr. Cooper had been just returning from lunch when they'd found his trailer. He'd glanced at Harry speculatively before inviting them inside. Half was taken up by a desk littered with papers and photographs while there was a couch and television from the eighties set up in the back. Two chairs sat in front of the desk. A regular black desk chair and a wooden chair that had been carved and painted to look like a clown. Dean settled quickly into the regular chair while Harry perched on the table behind it leaving Sam with the clown chair. He glared at them before slowly sitting down on the edge, his back ramrod straight to avoid touching it.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked watching Sam situate himself without appearing nervous in front of the carnival owner. Harry brought his hand up to cover his laugh.

"A couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first. So, you two ever work the circuit before?" Mr. Cooper explained before glancing at them interestingly.

"Yes sir," Sam answered, leaning forward earnestly. "Last year, through Texas and Arkansas." Dean nodded in agreement while Harry shook his head slightly.

"This'll be my first time," he said letting his accent and age speak for himself. "But my cousins have told me loads about it."

Nodding, Mr. Cooper surveyed them. "Doing what? Ride jockeys? Pull shoot? A-and-S men?" The three of them stared at him blankly before Sam nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, a little bit of everything, I guess." The older man glanced between the two brothers and their cousin who was looking down so as not to catch his eye.

"You two have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?"

Smiling Dean responded, "Nope. But we really need the work. And Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady." The younger Winchester turned to glare at his brother while Harry felt his lips twitch. Mr. Cooper watched them stoically.

"You see that picture?" He indicated a frame black-and-white behind him of a man in front of a ride, staring off into the carnival. "That's my daddy."

"You look just like him," Sam said, trying to sound impressed.

"He was in the business, ran a freak show, until they outlawed 'em most places." The boys shrugged, trying to see where this was going. "Apparently, displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So, most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's progress, I guess. You see, this place is a refuge for outcasts, always has been, for folks that don't fit in nowhere else." Dean and Sam felt their eyes shift downwards, their faces slacken as they thought about their lives. Harry's, on the other hand, hardened. This is probably where he would have ended up if that spell hadn't prevented his aunt from giving him away. "But you two… you should go to school, find a couple of girls, have 2.5 kids – live regular."

Dean rolled his eyes and was about to answer when Sam leaned forward into Mr. Cooper's space. "Sir…we don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this."

"And you son," Mr. Cooper said turning towards Harry. "You don't want normal? Go to school?"

"No," Harry said emphatically. "I definitely don't want normal." He thought about the scarily uniform housing development he grew up in, the neighbors who gossiped more than was healthy, and the sad bits of elephant skin that was his projected uniform for "normal" school. "And school…well I'm taking some time off."

"Hmm," Mr. Cooper turned away from the boys to get the necessary paperwork. Dean watched his brother and cousin and listened to their words. Harry, he didn't know well enough to know if he was lying but he had a feeling, he wasn't. But Sam, Sam he knew like the back of his hand and his baby brother had always wanted regular, had always wanted school.

**~*~*~**

After they'd been hired, Mr. Cooper had explained the ins and outs of the job to them, which they found was going to be pretty easy and give them the access they need to work their case. Harry was happy to be involved even though he knew his cousins were pissed he got hired with them. Dean had just glared at the back of his head while the younger boy signed on the dotted line.

Leaving the trailer into the bright sun, Harry squinted up into the sky. God, what he wouldn't give to go flying…it was perfect weather for it, clear skies, no wind, it was a little muggy but compared to England, everything was a little muggy. Sighing he wandered on ahead of the brothers, hoping that when they were done with the case, he could find some time away from them to let off some steam.

Sam watched as Harry walked ahead of them, his shaggy head glancing appreciatively up at the sky every so often that the youngest Winchester wondered what he was thinking about. Dean walked up beside him, his head bent and hands shoved in his pockets. Sam recognized the stance immediately as one Dean used when he wanted to talk about something but wouldn't admit to it. Surprisingly, Sam didn't have to prod his brother into talking.

"Huh." It wasn't the most eloquent opening but Sam took it for what it was.

"What?" Dean paused for a beat before continuing.

"That whole, uh, 'I don't wanna go back to school' thing – you just sayin' that to Cooper, or were you…you know, sayin' it?" Sam faced forward, thoughts racing through his head. This was not what he'd been expecting although he should have. For his brother, school and Stanford were touchy subjects; he normally avoided them afraid if Sam started talking about them, he'd leave then and there to go back. Sam had watched Dean shift uncomfortably when his cousin talked to them about his school when they'd first met him. "Sam?"

Sighing , the younger man continued staring ahead. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Dean questioned his voice belying his shock at Sam's uncertainty. "I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State."

Sam stopped, turning to face his brother, though his eyes shifted away. "I'm havin' second thoughts."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think…" Sam swallowed, not allowing his emotions to get the better of him in front of his brother. Resolutely, his browns eyes locked on Dean's hazel. "Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job."

"Since when do you give a damn what Dad wanted?" Dean's harsh words cut through Sam like a knife. It almost sounded like Dean wanted him to go back, that he was mad at Sam for siding with their father. "You spent half your life doin' exactly what he didn't want, Sam."

"Since he died okay," Sam replied as though it was obvious and Dean should have known that. "You got a problem with that?" He added defensively. Dean nodded knowingly and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. His façade was firmly in place now.

"Nah, I don't have a problem at all." He walked towards Harry who had stopped and was staring back at them, asking silently what was wrong. Dean caught up with the kid and indicated they should keep going. Harry looked back and Sam nodded, letting him know he was alright.

"What about you?" Dean said, letting Sam stew for a bit. Harry glanced up at him in shock, not expecting the question having not heard their conversation. "I may not be the poster child for education but even I graduated high school."

Harry stared at him, not quite sure where this was going. "So?"

"So school…?"

"I left before the last year of school for personal reasons," Harry started.

"To find us," Dean added.

"Yes," hedged the younger boy. "Among other things." Dean raised an eyebrow but let it go for now. He'd learned that his cousin would tell them things when he was ready and not before. Harry was turning out to be a fairly private kid and didn't show his emotions too much unless he was pushed, then they exploded, mostly in defensive anger. Dean looked him over carefully as they neared the car, inspecting him. He now knew about Harry's hand, arm and head, but he wondered if there any other scars that he didn't know about. Dean also wanted to know where they had come from so he could beat the living shit out of whoever had touched his cousin. It was bad enough that Bella bitch had gotten away but there might be others. This was why Dean wanted him close, not at Bobby's, not at Ellen's, but with them. He needed to see that nobody was going to take his cousin from him.

**~*~*~**

The next day saw the three boys standing in front of Mr. Cooper's office in their brand new red jackets, tools of their trade in hand – a large blue canvas bag and a grabber for picking up garbage. Mr. Cooper had just gotten done telling them when and where they'd work before sending them from his office. Sam and Dean only had a two working EMF meters so it was decided that Harry would work close to Dean, keeping an eye out for anything and then letting him know. The brothers attached headphones to the meters, sticking one earbud in so only they could hear the meter and the group headed out.

The carnival was relatively full, with families, friends and work groups running around the area on such a nice day. Sam noticed that Harry seemed to be doing better today than he had seen the boy in a several days. He was smiling and laughing, light was finally returning to his eyes. He didn't get a full night's sleep, though as he spent most of it thrashing and tossing around the bed. Once he woke up nearly crying because he'd twisted himself in his sheets and couldn't untangle himself. Sam and Dean knew he wouldn't come to them but it might have been better for all of them if he had. The youngest Winchester couldn't figure out how Harry was so happy when he'd slept so little.

Sam passed the Fun House and he glanced at the building before setting down his equipment by the steps and eased inside, being careful to look like casual. Inside it was painted black except the frames of the displays and doors, which were painted in neon colors. While it wasn't as scary as some of the places he'd gone into as a child, the place was disconcerting and disorienting. Several displays were filled with fake skulls and latex monsters but the meter wasn't showing any signs of supernatural activity. Sam turned to leave the House, considering it a bust when something dropped in front of him, swinging slightly from the momentum. He jumped back in surprise, reaching for his gun instinctively but stopped himself as he realized it was only a plastic skeleton hanging from a noose. Trying to slow his heart rate, he ran the meter over it. It remained silent.

Dean wasn't having much luck either though to be honest, he wasn't paying as much attention as he normally would on a hunt. His heart just wasn't in this one and he was keeping an eye out for Harry. The younger boy would occasionally wander over but he hadn't seen anything that he thought warranted Dean checking with the meter. Dumping his bag into the trash, he threw the bag and the grabber on the ground as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

"Hello?"

"_Hey man_." Sam sounded breathless on the other end and Dean smirked.

"What's the matter? You sound like you just saw a clown," Dean ribbed unable to resist. He knew Sam was giving him his patented bitch face and smiled more. Harry came around the corner and raised an eyebrow in silent question. Dean mouthed 'Sam' as he waited for his response.

"_Very funny…Skeleton, actually_." Dean felt his hopes rise. Maybe Sam had found the damn thing keeping the ghost here and they could get done with this stupid hunt tonight.

"Like a real human skeleton?"

"_In the funhouse. Listen, I was thinking what if the spirit isn't attached to a cursed object? What if it's attached to its own remains?_" Dean began walking towards the Fun House, with Harry following after him.

"Did the bones give off EMF?" he asked.

"_Well, no but_—"

"We should check it out anyway," Dean concluded, interrupting his brother. "I'm headin' to you." Dean shoved the phone in his pocket when he felt himself get pulled around. Harry surged forward, glaring at the man who had grabbed his cousin but stopped abruptly realizing it was the blind man, Barry.

"What are you doin' here, kid?" the old man asked, his face turned in the vicinity of Dean's chest.

"I'm just sweepin'," Dean said genially, the double meaning lost on the other man. Barry's face swung toward Harry and the younger boy knew he couldn't see him but it felt like he was being scrutinized. Harry let out a relieved breath when Barry turned back to Dean.

"Bull. And what were you talkin' about? Skeletons? What's EMF?" Dean stared at him in shock.

"Dude, your blind-man hearing is out of control," he said only half joking. He hadn't been talking all that loud and he'd been walking. No one should have been able to listen in on his conversation that well.

"Hey," Barry exclaimed annoyed. "We're a tight-knit group. We don't like outsiders. We take care of our own problems."

"We got a problem?" Dean asked.

"You tell me. You're the one talkin' about human bones," Barry countered. Dean glanced at Harry who shrugged his shoulders. This guy gave him the creeps and he wanted to get back to Sam as quickly as possible. Dean leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice.

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

"What?"

"My brother and me, um…we're writing a book about them," Dean said. "My cousin's just along for the ride." He added before smirking down at the shorter boy who shot him a glare.

Several minutes later, Sam was standing amidst the crowd when he spotted Dean and Harry walking towards him. The younger boy was determinedly not looking at his older cousin, keeping his head down and his eyes hidden behind his fringe. Dean was smirking as he watched Harry and smiled wider when he caught sight of Sam.

"What took you so long?" Sam asked his brother, eyeing Harry. The brunette rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Long story," Dean answered, still smiling as he glanced around. Harry was definitely nervous and upset about something but he was trying to calm himself. Sam edged closer to his cousin and nudged him gently.

"You okay?"

Harry visibly forced himself to relax before pasting a smile on his face as he turned to Sam. "Yeah, fine." Sam held his eye, clearly not believing the younger boy. Harry sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. "That Papazian bloke just doesn't feel right…It's nothing, I'll be fine. Really Sam. I'm starting to be grateful I never went to a carnival before though," Harry added, carefully watching a carnie operating the Tilt-a-Whirl. Sam shook his head, a small smile lightening his features before shoving the younger boy into Dean.

"Hey!" Both glared at Sam who held up his hands innocently.

"Hey look at that clown!" The three turned at the young girl's excited scream. A few feet from them, a mother and daughter were standing in the middle of the crowd. The girl was holding a large purple stuffed bear and was pointing towards an area several yards from them. The mother and three boys turned towards where the girl was pointing but none of them saw anything.

"What clown?" Shaking her head, the girl's mother took her hand and pulled her along. "C'mon sweetie. C'mon." The girl happily followed after his mother, the clown already leaving her head. Sam, Dean and Harry caught each other's eye and nodded in agreement.

**~*~*~**

It was dark. The small family had gone to bed hours ago while the cousins had watched the house from the dreaded minivan. Harry was beginning to realize that most hunts weren't as exciting as he thought. In fact, most of the time, hunts were downright boring. He'd spent more time in the stupid car or picking up trash than he had actually doing something useful. The young boy should have realized that hunting was too similar to looking for the Horcruxes. Looking back Harry, Ron and Hermione had spent the majority of their time in the damn tent, researching or brainstorming.

Harry glanced at Sam who was watching the house while Dean snored lightly in the front seat. He could see the haggardness in his face, the way Sam slouched tiredly. Harry knew Sam had been worried about the pair of them since Uncle John's cremation but he didn't realize the toll it was taking on his cousin. Sam wasn't grieving, he was worrying. Slumping down in his seat, his eyes drifting closed, Harry vowed to help his cousin, even if it meant hiding his grief better so his cousin didn't feel like he had to take care of both of them.

Hearing the slowed breathing, Sam let out a slow breath, happy Harry had finally fallen asleep. Hunters rested when they could, most of the time in shifts if they worked in pairs. Glancing in the rear view mirror, Sam prayed his younger cousin wouldn't be plagued by nightmares tonight. Harry had one every couple of days since he'd come home from the hospital, though the one he'd had at Bobby's before they left had been his worst yet. When this hunt was over, Sam vowed he'd figure out whatever had set him off so they could deal with it.

Lights flooded the living room an hour after Harry had fallen asleep, fifteen minutes before Sam's shift ended. Shaking off the remnants of tiredness, Sam reached over and shook his brother harshly. "Dean!" The three boys watched as a clown stood on the stoop of the girl's house. He was dressed in tired, rumpled jumpsuit that was unmistakably used by clowns in the circus. Sam felt fear begin to creep upon him, but he swallowed it back. The little girl opened the door and after a few words, grabbed the clown's hand and led him inside. "Shit."

Scrambling from the minivan as quietly as possible was not easy. Harry followed behind his cousins, although he knew they wanted him to stay in the car. Dean glared at him but didn't bother to say anything. The shotguns were held tightly as they sprinted almost silently towards the house. The door was still unlocked and they slipped inside. The little girl's voice filtered out to them and they could just make out what she said as she walked closer to them.

"…see Mommy and Daddy? They're upstairs." The clown and the girl rounded the corner, stopping abruptly as they caught sight of the three intruders. Before the girl could utter a word, Sam grabbed her and handed her off to Harry who held the scared child securely in his arms.

"Hey!" Dean shouted, raising the gun and firing a single shot. The rock salt hit the clown hard, sending it to ground. Screaming, the little girl struggled in Harry's arms as she attempted to break free but the younger boy knew if he let her go, she'd get hurt. The clown stood up rapidly. "Sam watch out!"

Sam raised his gun to take another shot at the clown but before he could do so, it vanished into thin air. The glass door behind it shattered and the boys were left with a crying hysterical child. Lights flooded the downstairs as the girl's parents rounded the corner.

"What's going on here?" The man shouted clearly not expecting to see three strangers in his house. The mother caught sight of the little girl and her eyes grew round in shock.

"Oh my God! What are you doing to my daughter?" Harry released the girl immediately and she fled to her parents. Sam and Dean began backing away, stepping in front of Harry as they did so to block him from their view.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Get out! Get out of my house!" Turning, the boys took off into the night.

~*~*~

Several hours later, the minivan from hell was parked haphazardly in a grove of trees. Sam and Harry watched as Dean took the plates off the back end before the three of them began walking back towards the carnival. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon and Harry was not looking forward to the trek back.

"You really think they saw our plates?" Sam asked, worrying his lip. He hitched his bag up onto his shoulder, watching as Harry did the same with his backpack. They'd never questioned the bag before, though Sam suddenly realized the younger boy should have more stuff or at least a bigger bag. As he always had clothes to wear, the Winchesters had never questioned it but not even judicious packing could fit everything into the worn bag. Shaking his head, Sam let it go. They had enough to worry about than where Harry got his clothes from.

"I'll take the chance. Besides, I hate this freakin' thing anyway." Dean's eyes narrowed in hate as he thought of the awful vehicle before they even out. "Well, one thing's for sure."

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"We're not dealin' with a spirit. That rock salt hit somethin' solid," Dean commented.

"And it's probably not a poltergeist either," Sam added before Harry could open his mouth. The younger boy sighed. Everything he'd ever heard of that could vanish couldn't do it like that clown had, except for perhaps Dumbledore but wizards wouldn't go around killing muggles by ripping them to shreds; there are far cleaner ways to kill people if you're a wizard. Besides, most wizards couldn't vanish silently, Dumbledore was an exceptional case. He was fresh out of ideas, though he wondered if Hermione had any idea… "A person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible? You got any bright ideas? You didn't think it was a ghost to begin with."

Harry shook his head. "Nope. I can't think of anything that acts like this clown."

"Yeah, I mean why would it dress up like a clown anyway? For kicks?" Dean injected. He'd been hoping Harry might have had an idea, while at the same time glad he didn't know anymore than they did. He didn't want to deal with his cousin knowing about the supernatural as then he'd have to think about what that bitch said and well, Dean was a master at repression. "Did it say anything in Dad's journal?"

"Nope," replied Sam simply. He pulled his phone from his pocket and began dialing steadily with his one hand.

"Who you callin'?" asked Dean, glancing over at his cousin who merely shook his head, indicating he didn't know either.

"Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash will know somethin'." He paused before hitting the send button and stared at his brother curiously. "Hey, you think, uh…you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?" Harry quickened his pace. He was not getting involved in any discussion that dealt with his uncle and a woman, especially not with Dean.

"No way," the oldest Winchester bit out harshly. Ellen was nice but Dad wouldn't have been with her, never would have happened, nope…

"Then why didn't he tell us about her?" Sam persisted. Harry rolled his eyes, glad he was several feet in front of them and therefore not expected to enter the conversation. Honestly, his cousin was brilliant but he didn't know when to quit. Harry had only known Dean a short while but he could tell the man was quickly becoming fed up with this line of questioning.

"I don't know. Maybe they had some sort of fallin' out," Dean responded, trying to nonverbally tell his brother to drop the issue.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "You ever notice Dad had a fallin' out with just about everybody?" Silence settled on the pair and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Thank Merlin that conversation was over. "Don't get all maudlin on me, man." The younger boy shut his eyes. _No!_ What the hell was his cousin thinking? He quickened his pace again, attempting to put more distance between them incase Sam decided he wanted to talk to him as well.

"What do you mean?" Dean watched at Harry practically sprinted from them and wished he could get away from his brother as easily. He knew exactly what Sam meant but damn it, he wasn't going to make it easy for them to have this conversation.

"I mean this strong, silent thing of yours. It's crap. I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talkin' about. This is Dad. I know how you felt about the man," Sam exclaimed. Dean could tell he'd been wanting to yell at him for a while but didn't, probably on account of Harry and Bobby. But as the older man was not here and Harry was clearly attempting to run back to the carnival, Sam must have decided now was the perfect time to talk.

"You know what, back off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to—" Dean was tired of his brother's constant worry. He was dealing with this in his own way, damnit and he didn't need Sam to hold his hand through it!

"No, no, no. That's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this, but you _have _to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay."

"Dude, I'm okay. I'm okay! I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwin' punches. These are your issues. Quit dumpin' 'em on me." The brothers stopped walking, turning to face one another. Neither paid much attention to the fact that Harry continued on, unwilling to be where he could even hear what they were talking about.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, obviously confused. Dean took a deep breath and Sam knew he shouldn't have opened this can of worms.

"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, 'Oh, what would Dad want me to do?' Sam, you spent your entire life sluggin' it out with that man. I mean, hell, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him, and now that he's dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I'm sorry, Sam, but you can't. It's too little, too late." Sam stared at his older brother, his words sinking in harshly.

"Why are you sayin' this to me?" Dean realized just how badly he'd messed up. In his attempts to get away from Sam and his want to discuss everything, he hadn't seen just how much Sam wasn't dealing.

"Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this! I'm dealin' with Dad's death! Are you?" Dean fell silent as he saw that he'd finally gotten through to his brother. Sam swallowed thickly.

"I'm gonna call Ellen," the younger brother said as he began walking away. Dean watches him leave before he hung his head. This was so fucked up. How the hell had things gotten so bad, damn it? It was supposed to be alright, him, Sam, Dad and Harry were supposed to be alright. Dean glanced up quickly realizing the younger boy was pretty far away from them. "Harry! Slow down!"

He stopped and turned to look back at his cousins before Dean saw him visibly sigh. Dean lengthened his stride and quickly caught up to him. He lifted his eyebrow in question and the younger boy shrugged. The pair waited while Sam finished up his phone call with Ellen.


	19. Part V: Chapter 18

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Everybody Loves A Clown". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Here's the part everyone's been waiting for and I hope it lives up to your expectations! There should be magic mentioned or used in every chapter from here on out and Harry's going to be asserting himself more. Also this is the last chapter in a series of parts. I'll be doing other episodes in season two but not all of them and they won't all be in the correct order; I'm also going to be making up my own episodes now that Harry's major secrets have been revealed. The episodes that are chosen mostly deal with Harry, either him learning something or the brothers learning something about him. Thanks to everyone who read and/or reviewed; you guys are awesome! Thanks to my amazing beta, Kirallie; chica you seriously rock!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

"Thanks a lot," Sam hung up before looking at the two. "Rakshasa."

"What's that?" Dean asked, voicing Harry's confusion as well.

"Ellen's best guess. It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited to," the youngest Winchester responded as he put his phone back into his pocket.

"Lovely," Harry muttered. They didn't sound _so_ bad, except for the whole eating people thing; Harry really didn't feel like getting eaten, he'd gotten enough of that dealing with basilisks and werewolves.

"They dress up like clowns, and children invite 'em in," Dean surmised. Granted, Sam wouldn't have let them in, or really any child who'd ever been taught not to talk to strangers. Honestly, what were parents teaching their kids these days?

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"Why don't they just munch on the kids?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged; did his brother really want to add to the death toll by adding kids into the mix; this creature was bad enough.

"Maybe they don't taste as good," Harry said. The brothers stared at their younger cousin before shaking their heads in unison. "What?" It was a valid suggestion!

"What else you find out?" Dean asked, getting back to the topic. They'd started heading back towards the carnival as soon as Sam had gotten off the phone but they still had a while to go before they reached it.

"Well, apparently, rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects."

"Nice," Dean said, reiterating Harry's previous comment. Seriously, these creatures were disgusting. Digging up graves to salt and burn a body wasn't exactly a picnic but at least the ghosts never tried to eat them.

"Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty to thirty years – slow metabolism, I guess," Sam continued.

"That makes sense – the carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81."

"Right. Probably more before that," Harry said, trying to feel like he was participating. "I mean carnivals don't just stay in one place; they travel. There's got to be more that we just don't know about."

Dean smiled at the other two. "And who do we know that worked both shows?"

"Cooper?"

"Cooper."

"You know, that picture of his father – that looked just like him," Sam said.

"You think maybe it _was _him?" Dean asked. Harry scoffed slightly. They turned to gaze at him questioningly.

"I look just like my father, doesn't mean we're the same blokes," the younger boy responded. "I mean, the first time anybody ever sees me who knew my parents always tell me I look exactly like my father but I've got my mother's eyes." The two brothers shared a look with the other before letting it go.

"Ellen say how to kill him?" Dean asked.

"Legend goes a dagger made of pure brass," Sam answered.

"I think I know where to get one of those."

"Well, before we go stabbin' things into Cooper, we're gonna wanna make damn sure it's him," Sam said stalling Dean's imagination for a minute.

"I agree with Sam," Harry said, nodding in emphasis. He didn't know how he felt stabbing anything that looked even remotely human. He'd never actually killed a person before; creatures, sure but a living breathing human, never. Harry had felt responsible for loads of people's deaths but when it came right down to it, he hadn't been the one to end their lives.

"Oh, you two are such sticklers for details." The younger boys smiled. "All right, I'll round up the blade. You go check if Cooper's got bedbugs."

Just as the two boys were about to start walking, Harry chimed in. "Well, what the hell am I supposed to do?" Sam and Dean stared at their cousin who was glaring at them slightly.

"You can wait by the entrance," Dean responded. Harry raised one dark brow. The hell he would!

"Yeah, try again." Sam sighed. Before his brother and cousin could get into a shouting match about being involved, he opened his mouth.

"You can come with me, keep a look out for Cooper." Harry seemed to consider it for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. It wasn't exactly what he'd hoped for but at least he would be helpful. Dean obviously didn't agree.

"Whoa, you want Harry to keep lookout for the homicidal clown?! Are you insane?" Harry rolled his eyes which Dean promptly ignored. "No, Harry can come with me. The more he's away from that freak the better." Dean stomped ahead of them, clearly not happy with the situation but knowing Harry'd probably get into more trouble if they resigned him to waiting.

Harry was about to open his mouth to respond when Sam cleared his throat. "Don't push it." Huffing, the younger boy hitched his back onto his shoulder and followed after Dean. Sam shook his head. Harry and Dean were going to be the death of him, he knew it.

**~*~*~**

The carnival was pretty well cleared out by the time they arrived back and rather than return to their jobs, the three boys decided to lay low for the several hours before sundown. They stashed their bags in an old junker Dean had stolen from a convenience store a mile from the carnival. It looked like it had been there for as long as the place had been open and nobody would notice it missing until they were back at Ellen's and could ditch it.

Night fell quickly and the three split up. Sam headed towards Cooper's trailer. It was attached to his office that they'd been interviewed in the day before. Picking the lock was relatively simply and he went right for the bed, picking up the mattress and feeling under the sheets. Sam quickly realized that the only thing under them was dust and crumpled up wrappers, which he prayed were from candy and not what he suspected they were. The sound of rifle being cocked caused the young man to still and turned swiftly to face his attacker. Cooper was standing in the doorway holding a rifle while Sam frantically tried to think of a way out of this.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Sam's mouth started moving trying to form coherent words but nothing was coming to mind. Cooper glared at him and motioned with his rifle towards the door. "Go on, git out o'here. I don't want to see you or your brother, ya hear?"

Scrambling up, Sam shuffled out the door, making sure that faced the older man with his gun. As soon as he heard the door to the trailer slam shut, Sam lengthened his stride and moved towards the center of the carnival where he saw Harry and Dean heading.

Harry was keeping his head down and trying not to appear too happy with the circumstances; his cousin was clearly unhappy with having a tagalong. Dean was tense as he strode along towards Papazian's tent, making sure that his cousin was always in his eyesight and glaring at anyone that came too close to them. The blind man had been closing up for the night when they'd found him. Taking pity on his older cousin, Harry decided to do the talking.

"Well, I got all kinds of knives. I don't know if I got a brass one, though," the old man responded as the group made its way to Papazian's trailer. He unlocked his door and turned on the lights. Using his cane, he motioned towards a trunk pushed up against the wall. "Check the trunk."

Dean bent over and began rifling through the contents until he came across a red clown wig along with an outfit they'd seen the Rakshasa wearing. Glancing up, Dean turned towards the man. "You?"

Harry's eyes widened as the cane dropped to the floor and the old man took off his sunglasses showing clear brown eyes. "Me." He smiled and his face morphed into that of a clown's without the makeup before he disappeared completely. Dean grabbed the younger boy's arm and pulled him towards the door which had somehow locked itself. A knife came out of nowhere and both boys sprang apart. Dean turned to survey the room while Harry put his hand on the doorknob praying his magic would work.

"_Alohamora_," he whispered. He heard the tell-tale click and smiled to himself. Unfortunately another knife came flying at him and Dean yanked him out of the way before it could impale him.

"Alright!" Dean slammed into the door which gave under his weight and the pair rolled out of the trailer into the night. Grabbing Harry's arm, Dean began running not caring that his cousin may not be able to keep up.

"Hey!" Both stopped abruptly at the sound of Sam's voice and skidded back towards him. Harry's face was flushed and he was panting harder than either brother was comfortable with; they needed to up his exercise regime.

"So Cooper thinks I'm a peeping Tom, but it's not him," Sam explained once they were close enough not to be overheard.

"Yeah, so I gathered. It's the blind guy. He's here somewhere," Dean responded. Harry shook his arm from his grasp and crossed them over his chest.

"I told you there was something wonky about that bloke," he said in all his teenage petulant glory. Both brothers ignored him.

"Well, did you get the..." Sam asked, before Dean realized what Harry had said. He didn't need his brother yelling at his cousin about disrespect, though to be fair, Harry had tried to warn them.

"The brass blades? No it's just been one of those nights." Sam got a contemplative look on his face and he began walking.

"I got an idea. C'mon." The funhouse loomed into view and only hesitating slightly, the boys entered. It was dark with neon doorframes, mirrors and odd alcoves that housed "spooky" items. Harry kept close to his cousins, wishing he'd had the foresight to grab his wand from his shoe but it would take too much time now. A door slammed shut behind him and the young boy turned at the sound of his cousin's voice.

"Sam! Harry!" The younger Winchester spoke loudly into the door.

"Dean! Dean, find the maze okay?" Hoping Dean would actually listen, Harry reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled along by Sam whose face now showed how worried he was. For several minutes the pair walked in silence until Sam bolted towards a pipe organ. Harry stood nervously behind him, watching for anyone coming or anything that would be thrown at them. Sam was pulling at one of the pipes trying to release it when Dean showed up.

"Hey," he nodded at Harry who'd spun quickly to face him.

"Hey. Where is it?" Sam asked as he paused in his work.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know shouldn't we see his clothes walking around or—" A knife flew through the air and imbedded itself in the door, along with the sleeve of Dean's coat. A second knife kept him pretty much pinned there as Sam and Harry looked on in shock. "Sam!"

Sam was suddenly thrown back by an invisible force as another knife flew at him. Harry was standing in the middle of the hall, glaring at the empty space. He felt his fear morph into anger at the creature attacking his cousins, his only remaining family. Before either of the brothers could react, Harry waved his hand in front of him, stating coldly, "_Aperio_!"

The clown appeared in front of Harry staring at him confused before a slow wicked smile appeared on his lips. "You are an interesting specimen…"

Harry continued to glare at the Rakshasa. "You don't know me."

"I know you're a wizard," the creature said as he circled the younger boy. "A pathetic…useless…wizard." Harry felt his anger spike as he continued to eye the Rakshasa. Dean and Sam stared at their cousin in shock.

"You don't know me," Harry repeated, his voice practically dripped with venom. He threw his hand out again, this time sending the Rakshasa flying backwards. "YOU DON'T KNOW ME!" The Rakshasa stood unsteadily as Harry glanced behind him. "_Accio pipe_!"

The pipe Sam had been trying to dismantle from the organ flew towards Harry striking the Rakshasa in the back. A horrible screeching wail erupted from him and steam began to billow. As it cleared, all that remained was the pipe and his clothes. Dean pulled the knives holding him in place and he went to stand beside Sam. Both watched their cousin who was glaring at the pile, with angry tears falling down his face. "You don't know me." He brushed his tears away harshly before stomping out of the funhouse leaving his cousins behind.

Dean's eyes narrowed as he stormed after Harry. "Hey!"

"Dean, wait!" Sam ran after his brother and caught up with them just as Dean grabbed Harry's arm. The younger boy whipped his arm out of his grip and turned to face his cousin his face still dripping with tears but the fear in his eyes was apparent. "Don't touch me!"

Hazel eyes widened in surprise before regaining their anger though a little less intense. "What the hell was that?!" Although Dean had a good several inches on Harry, the black haired boy stood his ground and glared at the blonde. "What aren't you telling us, huh? Is what that bitch said true?" It appeared as though Dean's words had broken a dam inside the younger boy as he took a deep breath.

"Yes, alright!"screamed Harry. "Yes, I'm a wizard! Yes, what Bella said was true!" His voice became scratchy from the shouting and emotion in it. "I'm horrible and evil and…and magical! Happy?! That's the big secret! The wizard has hunters for relatives! Going to kill _me_ now!"

"NO! Harry, no," Sam said stepping between his brother and cousin. He wanted to get them away before anyone came to investigate the shouting. "Look, let's just get back to Ellen's and we can deal with this there. Dean, let's go!" Sam started to put his hand on Harry's shoulder but stopped when he saw how skittish the younger boy was.

**~*~*~**

Ellen was wiping down the bar when Harry slammed in, the door banging against the wall and swinging back. It nearly struck Dean in the face as he followed after. His face was set in a stony expression and he opened his mouth to reprimand his cousin but Harry was already gone from the room, Ash's door was heard slamming shut.

Ellen raised an eyebrow as Dean slumped heavily onto a bar stool while Sam stood beside him. Jo sighed before turning to follow the distraught teen.

"Take it the hunt didn't go well?"

Sam snorted. "Hunt went fine. It was af—"

Dean's fist flew through the air to strike the bartop. "Wizard! A damn wizard! I can't believe he didn't tell us!"

Ellen glanced between the two brothers while Sam turned incredulously to stare at Dean. "Really, cause I'm not!"

"What? The kid lied to us!"

"C'mon man! Would you have told us? If he found us and told us he was a wizard, Dad would have killed him on principle!" Sam exclaimed. He hadn't told his brother about his visions until he couldn't keep them a secret anymore and he'd known him his entire life. Harry had only just met them and Dean expected him to tell them his greatest secret. Yeah, right!

"John wouldn't have shot him," Ellen interrupted. "Now who's the wizard? That boy whose holed up in Ash's room?"

"What?" Dean asked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Wizards aren't evil," Ellen explained evenly. "Well, not all of them are, just as some people aren't exactly saints. Your daddy knew that. Hell, most hunters know that if they know about 'em! Now that boy may have lied but he's hurtin' and his greatest secret's just been revealed. I suggest you cut him a little slack before you lose him." She wiped down the bar while she let her words settle on them. "So how did the hunt go?"

"We figured out who the Rakshasa was and killed it," Sam said. "Thanks by the way for the info on the brass knife."

"It was Harry actually who killed it," Dean said quietly, his eyes never leaving the bartop. "With his magic. Sam and I were a little tied up…"

"You boys did a hell of a job. Your dad would be proud of all of you," Ellen said settling two beers in front of them.

"Thanks," Sam said, taking a long pull from his bottle. Jo came from behind them and stood beside Dean. Ellen walked away to clean some glasses while Jo and Dean both stared at Sam significantly. It finally dawned on him. "Oh, yeah. I've got to, uh…I've got to go…over there…right now." He left with his beer as Jo smiled.

"So."

"So…How's Harry?" Dean asked tightly, his voice betraying nothing of his true emotions.

"Pissed, upset, thinkin' you guys are gonna dump him and run." Jo bumped shoulders with him lightly. "Don't worry, he'll come around…Am I gonna see you again?"

"Do you want to?" Dean answered with a question.

"I wouldn't hate it." Dean nodded, smiling slightly at her non-answer.

"Can I be honest with you?" He noticed Ellen listening in as she washed the shot glasses but he tried to ignore her. "See, normally, I'd be hittin' on you so fast, it'd make your head spin. But, uh...these days…I don't know."

"Wrong place, wrong time," Jo quoted. "It's okay, I get it."

Ash slammed into the room carrying a laptop under his arm and several folders. He stopped short upon seeing the brothers. "Where you guys been? I been waitin' for you. Oh, and there's a dude in my room, belong to you?"

"Yeah he belongs to us," Sam responded from his place on the pool table. "We were working a job, Ash. Clowns?" Sam hopped down and headed towards the back where Harry was currently hiding.

"Clowns? What the f—"

Dean cut him off before he could finish. "You got somethin' for us, Ash?" He settled his laptop on the bar beside Dean. It appeared to be modified with the amount of wires coming out of it and no casing.

"Did you find the demon?" Sam asked from behind them. Dean turned and saw Harry standing there, staring resolutely at the ground, refusing to catch anybody's eye. Sam prodded him forward and sat between his cousin and his brother. The others wisely kept their mouths shut and eyes averted, not wanting to get involved in Winchester drama.

"It's nowhere around, at least nowhere I can find," Ash responded typing away on the computer. "But if this fugly bastard raises its head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like divine on dog dookie."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, not quite sure how he'll know.

"I mean," Ash turned his computer to face them showing several windows opened with weather and supernatural websites. "Any of those signs or omens appear anywhere in the world, my rig will go off like a fire alarm." Dean stared at the screen in wonder and stretched his hand out towards the keyboard.

"You mind?" Dean stopped and saw Ash staring at him harshly. Smiling he pulled his hand back.

"What's up, man?" Sam barely noticed as he continued to stare at the machine in front of him.

"Ash, where did you learn to do all this?" Sam asked scoffing.

"MIT, before I got bounced…for fighting," Ash refused to look at them as he admitted what school he'd gone to and the reason he was expelled. Sam smirked incredulously.

"MIT?" Sam didn't know if he should believe him or not.

"It's a school in Boston," Ash responded as though Sam hadn't heard of it. On the contrary, Stanford was ranked even with MIT for their undergraduate program and Sam had considered it when looking at colleges, but Stanford had come through with the full ride and the law program.

"Okay," Dean said intervening before Sam could defend his school. "Give us a call as soon as you know something?"

"Si, si, compadre," Ash responded. Dean took a long drink of his beer before settling the not quite empty bottle down on the table. He got up and headed towards the door, waiting for his brother and Harry, who still hadn't spoken to anyone since his outburst at the carnival.

Ellen called out before they could leave though. "Hey, listen. If you boys need a place to stay, I got a couple beds out back."

"Thanks, but no," Dean said. "There's something I gotta finish." He glanced down at his cousin and Ellen's face softened.

"Okay."

~*~*~

The ride back to Bobby's was silent. As soon as the car stopped, Harry bolted and didn't allow either brother to even try to stop him. Dean sighed before heading towards the Impala and Sam watched him go, knowing this fight between them was eating his brother up. He gave Dean a few minutes before making his way over.

"You were right."

Dean looked up from his tools he was laying out. "About what?"

"About me and Dad," the younger boy began. "I'm sorry that the last time I was with him, I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know, he died thinkin' that I hate him. So, you're right. What I'm doin' right now – it is too little. It's too late." He took a breath and glanced away before returning his gaze to his brother. "I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell." Tears pooled in his eyes but he refused to let them fall. "And I'm not all right. Not at all…But neither are you. That much I know. I'll let you get back to work."

Dean watched Sam leave. After a moment, he bends down to pick up a tire iron, holding it tightly in his hands. He suddenly swings it out and smashes the window of a car next to where he's working. It alleviated his pain for a second but it wasn't enough. Catching sight of the Impala, he felt rage bubble up inside him. He brought the tire iron down on the trunk. It barely dented. He did it again and again and again but there were scratches and dents all along his beloved car. The car his father had given him, the car that smelled like his dad and home, the car that had always protected them, except when it hadn't, when it mattered most. He dropped the iron, and stared coldly forward.

The silence of the junkyard was broken by a fearful shout. Dean's stomach clenched as he recognized Bobby's voice. Grabbing the tire iron, he tore through the house. "Bobby!" Outside in the backyard, he quickly glanced around. "Bobby, what's wr—"

Dean felt as though he'd been sucker-punched in the gut as he watched his cousin fall through the air. "Harry!" Dean rushed towards his cousin before Sam grabbed his arm.

"Dean, wait!" Shrugging his arm off, the oldest Winchester started forward again. Sam hauled him back and Dean glared hatefully at his brother. "Dude, watch!" He turned hazel eyes to watch fearfully as Harry continued to fall. But as he continued to watch, he realized that Harry was positioned funny, almost like he was holding something. Just before he was supposed to hit the ground, the teen pulled up short and soared through the air on a…broom? What the hell?

After a couple more circuits of the yard, Harry landed gracefully and nothing could hold Dean back as he stormed up to his younger cousin. Harry uncertainly stood his ground but surprise filled his face as Dean grabbed him and pulled him into a hug.

"Don't you ever do something like that again!" He shouted as he held the boy at arm's length. "You hear me. I mean it. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I'm fine, mate," Harry said pulled back, blushing slightly. "Honest. I've been flying since I was eleven. It's perfectly safe."

"Safe my ass, you could have been killed!" Dean shouted but Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's protectiveness. "What kind of idiot flies a broomstick of all things!"

"A wizard," Harry responded evenly, looking him in the eye.

"How about we talk about this inside?" Sam suggested while Bobby muttered about Winchesters and crazy ideas.

Once all of them were settled in the living room, Harry stared at his hands waiting for the questions to start. Sam glanced at Dean who was watching his cousin with a blank face. This wasn't exactly his brother's idea of a good time but Sam had a feeling Dean had to hear about this from their cousin's own mouth, regardless of how either of them felt about it. Nodding, the oldest Winchester took a deep breath.

"So wizard huh? Let's talk."


	20. Part VI: Chapter 19

******Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Simon Said". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** I was driving home yesterday and was unable to post this so I apologize. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed; they're greatly appreciated. Thanks to my amazing beta, Kirallie for getting this back to me so promptly, you are awesome chica! I'm pretty sure this'll push me over the 100K word mark and I surpassed 300 reviews which I'm both quite floored at. Its crazy how this all started from an idea when I first watched the show and now its grown into this!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

**Part VI: Simon Said**

**~*~*~**

_I understand about indecision_

_But I don't care if I get behind_

_People livin' in competition_

_All I want is to have my peace of mind._

_Take a look ahead, take a look ahead. Look ahead._

_"Peace of Mind" Boston_

**~*~*~**

_The weather was perfect, clear skies and pleasant breeze rippling through the bustling streets. People greeted each other as they passed, smiling and exchanging pleasantries. The older man walked along, a happy smile on his face, a carefree spring in his step, his darker skin contrasting with his white hair. Nothing could ruin such a perfect day. A cheerful ringing broke through his thoughts. Digging into his pocket, the man took out his cell phone, bringing it to his ear. _

"_Hello? Yeah?" The smile fell from the man's face as he listened to what was being said on the other end of the line. "All right." Hanging up, he watched a bus rumble past before carrying on towards the crosswalk. After crossing the street, the man entered a store and immediately headed towards the back, an absent smile back on his face. _

"_Afternoon Dennis," he said, greeting another man. He worked in the store and was standing in front of a display case reading a magazine. He turned smiling, genuinely happy to see the other man. _

"_Hey Doc," Dennis replied._

"_I'd like to look at a gun."_

_Dennis chuckled heartily. "Yeah right, Doc." Doc gave him an even look and Dennis's face morphed into shock. "Seriously?" Doc continued to stare him down. Dennis made his way around the counter while Doc perused the guns on display. He glanced up and finally pointed to a rifle on the end. _

"_That one." _

"_Okay…" Dennis began to unlock the line keeping the guns attached to the wall and taking it down, explained the rifle to the other man. "__That's a turkey hunter, 12-gauge, pump-action. Don't leave enough turkey behind, if you ask me."_

_Doc took the gun in his hands, weighing it carefully. "What, uh…what sort of shells does it use?" Dennis reached under the counter and pulled up a box of cartridges. _

"_Right here," he said pulling one out to show the older man. Doc took it carefully examining it. "__I'm taking the boys up to the cabin this weekend if, uh…I mean, if you think you might like to take up the sport." Doc laughed._

"_Thanks, but no. You know guns make me nervous." Doc began loading the shells into the barrel of the rifle. "They always have. Now, this one goes in here, right?" He slammed the cartridge home and pumped the rifle with a resolute sound. Dennis held up his hands in alarm, his earlier jovial nature vanished._

"_Whoa, Doc! No, no, you can't load a weapon on the premises. It's illegal!" _

"_It's okay Dennis," Doc responded congenially as though he were calming a scared child. _

"_No, no," Dennis tried again but Doc turned towards him with a fully loaded rifle and the plea fell short. _

"_It's okay, Dennis. It's all gonna be okay." Dennis tried to stop him but Doc pulled the trigger and a blast was heard throughout the store. Dennis flew back, blood ribboning out from his chest, and slammed into the door behind him. Glass rained down on him as he fell to the floor. Screams were heard as customers turned towards the commotion. Doc tried to appease their fears. _

"_No, no, it's okay. It's okay. It's all gonna be okay." Doc turned the gun up and tucked it under his chin before a second shot was heard, blood spraying everywhere. _

Sam jerked as a spasm of pain ripped through his head. Cupping his left hand, Sam scooped up some of the running water from the dirty faucet in the restroom of the gas station they'd stopped at. He ran the water over his face, trying to get his breathing under control before sliding his hand through his hair. He turned the water off as the door to the bathroom swung open.

"Sam, c'mon, zip it up. Let's hit the…" Dean stood in the doorway, taking in his brother's ashen features. "Road. What?"

**~*~*~**

Harry leaned against the Impala, praying neither of the brothers came out just yet, but he had a pretty good guess that they were otherwise occupied. Merlin, Harry hated these visions. They hurt like a sonofabitch and they never gave him enough information to actually help the people. Plus, Harry didn't know where they were coming from, why he was getting them. He had a feeling it had to do with his cousin but why would he be receiving the same visions as Sam? It just didn't make any sense.

Pulling himself up shakily, using the Impala as leverage, Harry took several deep breathes, running his hands over his face as he tried to pull himself together enough to shuffle towards the trunk. Popping it open, Harry pulled a brown duffle towards him rifling through it until he found a small red vial. Harry quickly downed the Pepper-up Potion, feeling it immediately take effect. He took out another to give to Sam once he asked for it; it couldn't seem like Harry already knew about the vision.

The younger boy smiled as he thought about that day several months ago when his cousins confronted him about the magic.

_*Flashback*_

"_So wizard, huh?" Dean said. "Let's talk."_

_Harry stared at the floor for a beat after Dean's pronouncement before jumping up from his seat. He began to pace, attempting to ignore their stoic calm as Sam and Dean tracked him with their eyes. He didn't know how to begin, where to begin, how much he should tell them. Harry turned to them suddenly. _

"_I'm not evil," the younger boy said urgently._

"_Never said you were," Dean responded. Harry noticed the coiled tension in the older man's body._

"_Wizards," he began before stopping and running his hand through his hair. Harry sighed and slumped back into the couch. "Wizarding magic is internal. Most of us get it from our parents—"_

"_Most?" Sam asked, concern showing in his brown eyes. _

"_Hm-mmm," Harry said as he grabbed a book from the table and began flipping through the pages in order to expel his nervous energy. "Most wizards and witches, as we know them, have at least one parent who's magical. Those that don't, we call muggleborns. Hermione had a theory that muggleborns have a squib somewhere in their ancestry and that's wh—" _

"_Hold up," Dean said, bringing his hand up to stall Harry's rushed monologue. "Muggles? Squids?"_

"_Not squids, __**squibs**__…with a b. Muggles are what we call non-magical folk and squibs are people who are non-magical born to magical parents," responded the younger boy._

"_Oh," Dean said uncertainly. "So, uh…was Aunt Lily a, uh…"_

"_She was a muggleborn," Harry responded. "My father came from a long line of wizards."_

"_So how come we haven't heard of wizards before?" Sam asked. "It wasn't even written in Dad's journal."_

"_I can't tell you why Uncle John never mentioned them," Harry said, faltering over his uncle's name before continuing. "But wizards generally keep to themselves. They tend to fear outsiders."_

"_Most skittish bunch of idjits I ever met," Bobby muttered. The brothers and Harry turned to stare at the older man. _

"_When did you meet wizards?" Sam asked. _

"_Bout ten years ago," Bobby answered. "Bunch of em wandered into a bar and I knew they didn't belong." Harry groaned slightly. _

"_Don't tell me they were wearing robes…" he muttered, his eyes pleading with the other man. Bobby shook his head. _

"_Don't know what the hell they were wearing but they were about to get their asses kicked when they tried to pay with some foreign coins. Anyway, I told em I'd pay for their beers if they told me about the coins. After a few beers, I'd gotten the whole story."_

_Harry stared at him wide-eyed. "I'm surprised you still have your memory! They broke a bunch of laws even showing you those coins."_

"_Wait, wait, wait," Dean broke it, his brows risen in skepticism. "Illegal?"_

"_Yeah," Harry replied calmly. "The Statute of Secrecy forbids us from talking about the wizarding world with muggles, except in certain situations. Most muggles have their memories modified while we're hit with an impressive fine."_

_Both Sam and Dean looked like they wanted to interrupt but Bobby spoke first. "Well, some official showed up and was about to mojo me when he saw my books. He decided to hit me with a lesser charm. Instead, I couldn't talk about it unless someone else brought it up." Harry nodded his head in understanding. Bobby hadn't mentioned anything about wizards before Harry commented about them when talking about his parents and how they died. _

"_Why all the secrecy?" Sam finally blurted out. "What are wizards so afraid of?"_

_Harry glanced away for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. "They're afraid of being used, or being killed."_

_Silence followed his words as the brothers digested their meaning. Both knew Harry was right; they'd seen it first hand – people being absolutely terrified of the supernatural or like the witches they'd met, wanting to use it for their own purposes. _

"_So," Sam said, breaking the tense moment. "You guys have your own laws…" Harry smiled gratefully at his older cousin. It was becoming easier to talk to them about his magic. _

"_We've got everything! Government, schools, money – even sports and gossip rags. We're a self-functioning society, just secret."_

"_Impressive," Sam commented clearly intrigued by the world Harry came from. "Can you show us some magic?" Dean and Harry both tensed before the younger boy nodded slowly. Bending over, Harry pulled up his pant leg and pulled his wand from his shoe. After the whole mess with the Elder wand, Hermione had put a spell on his wand so if he ever became unconscious, the wand would vanish until he was awake and called it back to him. It wasn't until he was released from the hospital that Harry felt well enough to have his wand. _

"_This is my wand," Harry started awkwardly. "The conduit for our magic." He held it up for them to see, lightly running his fingers over the polished wood. "Every wand has a magical core; mine is a phoenix feather." The younger boy paused as he considered the spell he'd show them. Taking a deep breath, Harry thought of a spell he'd learned when he was younger, one of the one's he was known for. _

"_Expectro Patronum!" A beautiful glimmering stag stood before the occupants of the room. The brothers stared at the apparition in shock and awe while Bobby eyed it studiously. _

_Sam reached out a hand tentatively as he asked breathlessly. "What is it?"_

"_It's a patronus," Harry said watching as Prongs began to walk around the room, sniffing innocently at the brothers, almost as though it were a real animal. "They're used to ward off Dementors, created by intensely strong happy memories. Each is unique to their creator. Mine is an imitation of my father's animagus form."_

"_Dementors? Animagus?" Dean asked as he carefully watched Prongs for any sudden movements. Harry sighed as he considered the amount of information they were going to cover. However, Harry felt his spirits lift just having his dreaded secret revealed and his cousins accepting it, accepting him. _

_*Flashback ended*_

The three cousins and Bobby had a long conversation the rest of the afternoon and during the time it took for Dean to fix the Impala; they continued to ask Harry about his magic and the phrases he used. The only thing Harry regretted about talking about his past was the fact that his uncle never knew.

Harry contacted Hermione during their break and requested several items to be posted to him. He asked her to send him a stock of basic healing potions, blood-replenishing, pepper-up, bruise-healing paste and several others, as well as A Beginner's Guide to Being a Mediwizard. Dean about had a heart attack when the brown barn owl swooped into the kitchen with his packages. It took Harry about fifteen minutes to convince his cousin not to shoot the creature and even then, Dean continued to eye it warily. He'd been practicing basic healing spells, hoping it would keep the brothers out of the hospital, though when Sam broke his hand after the zombie hunt, Harry hadn't been confident enough in his abilities to actually attempt healing it, remembering the Lockheart fiasco in second year. He really didn't feel like having his cousin re-grow his bones and he didn't think Sam or Dean would let him heal them again if that had happened.

The brothers had been relatively open about Harry's use of magic, though Dean tensed the first few weeks every time Harry pulled his wand. Harry tried not to let it bother him too much but eventually Dean relaxed and the younger boy realized his cousin had grown up under the knowledge that magic was bad and that it would take some time for him to condition himself that there was nothing wrong with Harry's magic. Sam on the other hand was constantly asking Harry questions, wanting to know how his magic worked and what certain spells were used for. Harry had quickly grown frustrated with playing twenty questions and told him to talk to Hermione if he wanted to know more. Unfortunately now his best friend and his cousin were constantly talking and the younger boy was scared he'd made a mistake.

The younger boy was pulled from his thoughts when he saw Sam and Dean walking carefully out of the gas station and he straightened minutely, carefully cataloguing Sam's pinched expression and his slight dependence on Dean as they moved toward him.

"Hey, you got one of those potion-thingies for headaches?" Dean asked once they were all settled in the car. Sam was leaning against the window, allowing it to cool him.

"Yeah, sure," Harry pretended to rout around in his bag and pulled out the vial he'd taken from the trunk earlier. Thankfully, neither brother questioned it too much.

**~*~*~**

They'd been driving for several hours when darkness settled around them. Harry was once again relegated to the backseat, though he'd learned to prepare himself. First, no matter how comfortable car seats were, sitting in them for hours on end was not fun and it led to sore muscles and stiff necks. Harry had grabbed a pillow from one of their many motels and kept it in the backseat, ignoring Sam's smirks and Dean's condescending comments. It was also nice to rub it their faces when he'd gotten a decent nap in and they were sore at the end of their trip. Second, listening to Dean's music or utter silence for miles on end had quickly lost its appeal. Harry made sure to have a couple of books, mostly quidditch or defense as well his mediwizard book, to keep him occupied. It wasn't his favorite thing to do but he'd have gone mad by now otherwise. He couldn't wait until Dean or Sam, but probably Dean, taught him to drive just so he could listen to music he wanted to for a change. The first time he'd brought up driving lessons, Dean had flat out refused, after questioning him for twenty minutes about the validity of his claims surrounding his lack of driving ability and then laughing at him, but he and Sam were slowing wearing him down. It was just a matter of time before he said yes.

"I don't know, man. Why don't we just chill out and think about this?" Sam reached over and turned off the radio at Dean's words. Harry looked up from his vigil of staring out into the darkness. This was the third time they'd had this conversation, _argument_, and Harry knew Sam was going to lose it. He knew it was wrong but the brothers having heated debates, _arguments_, was sure to entertain him for as long as they lasted and as he was fairly bored, he'd take what he could get.

"What's there to think about?" Sam asked. _He doesn't want his baby brother admitting in front of the big, bad hunters that's he's less than normal, for fear he might have to kick their asses,_ Harry supplied in his head but made sure to keep it to himself. He'd learned from Hermione and Ron's teasing that his thoughts didn't often translate well.

"I just don't know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea," Dean replied. _Read: Why can't you see that all I want to do is keep you safe? I love you man!_ Okay, Harry considered, Dean would never say that last part, or any of it but that's definitely what he's thinking.

"Dean, it's another premonition. I know it. This is gonna happen, and Ash can tell us where," Sam said reasonably. Harry had realized that his younger-older cousin wasn't as much fun to imitate in his head. Sam often said what he was thinking and feeling so it left little room for Harry to try to interpret. Plus, the older man was far too logical for his own good.

"Yeah, man, but—"

"Plus, it could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do." _Oooh, wrong move, Sammy. _Bringing up the demon with regard to the visions was never a smart idea. Dean was sure to clamp down on that and somehow use it against him.

"That's my point. There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if going in and announcing that you're some supernatural freak with a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?" _Oh, who called it! Wait, freak? _Harry stilled in the backseat. This was always the problem with his car time entertainment; it had the potential to backfire and turn into some huge fiasco. Though in all honesty, Harry wasn't sure how he felt returning to the Roadhouse now that his secret was out, at least to them. He hadn't felt at all comfortable with that Gordon bloke a couple hunts back and he knew Sam had felt his apprehension every time they had to see him. Thankfully Harry hadn't done anything to ping the older man's radar, in fact he almost completely ignored him. Well, except for that one time but he'd rather not think about it…

"So I'm a freak now?" Sam asked. Dean paused before smirking and reaching over to pat his younger brother on the leg jovially.

"You've always been a freak." _…And crisis averted._ Harry understood Dean's hesitance to enter the Roadhouse announcing Sam's visions. He intended on keeping his own magic a secret from most of the hunters that passed through Ellen's establishment. However, he also understood Sam's unwillingness to hide when there are people in danger. Harry returned to his window, figuring the discussion, _argument_, was over. Dean caught his eye in the rearview mirror and the younger boy smiled. At least, it had been a short break in the monotony, right?

**~*~*~**

The sounds of a Super-Mario version of a rifle shot continuously filled the bar along with cheesy videogame music. Once it stopped, the score flashed upon the screen and Jo smiled. It wasn't her best but it would do.

"Damn, little lady, that was my room money." An older man stood beside her, watching in despair as she took his money from his hand. Jo smiled happily, not at all upset with the turn of events.

"Then I guess you're taking a truck nap tonight." She turned and walked away, tucking her winnings with the rest of her tip money. Ellen strolled up as the man stared morosely at the screen.

"I'd have checked the high scores before you put your money down." She pushed a button and a list of the high scores was pulled up. Jo's name ran down the middle of the screen. "Went and got yourself hustled, Ed." Ellen left Ed to his misery just as Dean, Sam and Harry entered the bar. Several hunters sitting by the door glanced up at them and watched them as they passed them by. Sam steered Harry away from them while the younger boy rolled his eyes.

Jo smiled up at Dean as they drew closer. "Just can't stay away, huh?"

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, looks like it. How you doin', Jo?" Sam quickly interrupted the pair before they could get into it.

"Where's Ash?" he asked urgently.

"In his back room," she responded. Sam walked away with another glance. "And I'm fine!"

"Sorry, he's…we're kind of on a bit of a timetable," Dean said, trying to explain before he awkwardly walked away. Harry smiled at her as he was left standing in his cousins' wake. Jo smiled at him and motioned towards his cousins.

"Well, aren't you goin' to go after them?"

"Nah, they can handle themselves," the younger boy responded. Jo smiled and they walked towards the bar.

"You want something to drink?" she asked. Harry smirked at her.

"I'll take a beer if you've got it," he said, congenially. Jo gave him a look and rolled her eyes.

**~*~*~**

Sam knocked heartily on Ash's door. "Ash!" He knocked again after no answer. "Hey Ash!" Dean wandered over and Sam made a face at him that he recognized from Sam's years as a teenager: his patented bitchface. Noticing the sign on the door, Dean knocked.

"Hey Dr. Badass!" Locks could be heard sliding on the other side of the door before it pulled open slightly and Dean quickly averted his eyes. The man wasn't wearing any clothes.

"Sam? Dean?" Ash sniffed as he eyed them. Neither brother really wanted to know what he'd been doing in his room so long as it stayed in his room. "Sam and Dean."

"Hey Ash, um…" Sam started, staring avidly at Ash's face to ensure that he didn't see anything he didn't want to see. "We need your help."

"Hell, then…I guess I need my pants." The door slammed in their faces.

**~*~*~**

"How about a coke?" Jo reached over the counter pulling up a glass and the soft drink dispenser before pouring him a glass. "Dean would kill me if I served you underage. Hell, he'd probably kill me if I served you period."

It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "What Dean doesn't know won't hurt him."

"You want to try that again." Jo and Harry turned to face the man in question and the brunette smiled shrugging his shoulders while Jo quickly made herself scarce. Dean didn't relent his hard glare and Harry huffed in reply. Sam and Ash were smirking behind them but didn't seem inclined to intervene.

"Oh c'mon," Harry exclaimed. "I_ am_ English, y'know and I went to a boarding school. You think we never had a bit of fun?!"

"Dude, stop while you're ahead," Sam muttered as Dean's eyes narrowed. He stepped closer to his cousin.

"This isn't over," he commented before motioning for Ash to set his things down. Harry took a sip of his drink before sharing a smile with Sam who shook his head at the younger boy's antics. He was convinced Harry was actively trying to annoy Dean half the time; sad thing was it worked _all_ the time.


	21. Part VI: Chapter 20

******Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Simon Said". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Okay, here's the next part. Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing and giving me awesome ideas. Seriously, I read some of your reviews and I think, "Why didn't I think of that?!" So I thank you for the plentiful plotbunnies that sprout becuase of your comments. Also thanks to my awesome beta Kirallie for keeping my comma obsession in order. Any last minute mistakes are mine.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

Ash was set up at the counter of the bar with his homemade computer waiting for Sam to finish the drawing he was currently working on. Dean was watching Harry who kept smiling at him innocently, every once a while taking a sip of his drink. Frustrated, the older man turned towards his younger brother. "It doesn't have to be perfect, Picasso!"

Sam didn't even bother replying but laid his pen down on the counter after another few minutes and pushed the napkin across the table towards Ash. Harry's little smirks and his earlier comments were messing with Dean who in turn was taking it out on Sam. Besides the prank wars, Sam hadn't ever tried to mess with Dean or their father's head. He'd just said what was on his mind and that was that. Harry on the other hand liked to smirk innocently at Dean occasionally, his green eyes glistening in mirth and hidden secrets. This led Dean to assume he'd done something wrong when in fact he hadn't. Sam didn't want to think how he'd act when he actually did do something. God help them if they ever get into a prank war with this kid. Unlike his brother, he recognized a devious person when he saw one and Harry was slowly learning to let out his more Machiavellian tendencies since he'd met them.

"So, I got a match," Ash said breaking through his thoughts. "Let's see… it's the logo for the Blue Ridge bus lines – Guthrie, Oklahoma."

"Okay, do me a favor," Sam said urgently. "Check Guthrie for any demonic signs or omens or anything like that." Ash began typing away on his computer.

"You think the demon's there?" He asked. Harry watched his cousin's face and noticed Sam was trying to hide any emotions besides detached interest.

"Yeah, maybe," Sam responded.

"Why would you think that?" Ash continued.

"Just check it, all right?" Dean interrupted before Ash could continue or Sam could respond. His questions were hitting a little too close to home for his comfort. Harry smiled encouragingly at the older computer hacker while running a finger around the edge of his glass absently. Research had never been his thing back at Hogwarts and it wasn't his thing now, especially computers. Ash turned back to the computer and Dean caught his brother's eye. Sam's lips upturned slightly in appreciation.

"No sir, nothing. No demon," Ash said quietly. Sam scrunched up his face thinking before leaning forward.

"All right, try something else for me," he paused before stealing himself and continuing. "Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983, the fire's origin would be a baby's nursery, the night of the kid's six-month birthday." Ash turned to stare at him in consternation while Dean glanced around them nervously making sure that no one was listening in. Harry felt his heart rate increase but kept his movement steady while his green eyes flickered around the room. Jo looked towards them but Harry minutely shook his head and she went back to what she was doing.

"Okay, now that is just weird, man. Why the hell would I be lookin' for that" There were some things that he didn't understand about hunters or the information they requested. Sam leaned back in his seat, not at all worried about Ash's question. He grabbed his bottle of beer that he'd bought but hadn't drunk from and slammed in front of him.

"Cause there's a PBR in it for ya."

"Give me fifteen minutes," Ash responded, turning resolutely to his computer. Then again, there were some things he didn't want to know.

**~*~*~**

Dean and Harry wandered away from Sam and Ash, both for every different reasons. Dean couldn't stand anyone knowing about their family's business and Ash's search was coming far too close; it was better for him to walk away before he dragged his brother and his cousin from the Roadhouse and never looked back, Sam's vision be damned. Harry on the other hand was simply bored; he figured he would get more fun out of annoying Dean than he would Sam.

The younger boy and older man had fallen into silence, fortunately for Harry. While he'd been hoping his cousin would distract him, Harry was happy Dean wasn't taking this time to lecture him on underage drinking. He smiled a little at his oldest cousin's indignation, reminding him of Hermione when Ron had suggested getting a firewhiskey at the Hog's Head. It felt almost like how he imagined a parent would act, but Dean wasn't his father. Harry shook his head of his thoughts. Sure, the older man took care of him but he was his cousin. Best to remember that so he wasn't disappointed later.

Dean sipped his beer while Harry slumped forward, nursing his soda. He figured Jo's offer of a drink didn't extend to refills and since he'd recently learned he really liked soda, not having been exposed to it before, he was savoring his drink. He glanced up as Jo wandered over but she was determinedly ignoring them. Putting some money in the juke box, a soft piano melody filled the emptying bar. Harry watched as his cousin's head lifted, a disgusted look on his face. He glanced around before taking a strong pull of his beer. Jo brought over her tray of empty glasses and turned toward the pair. Dean raised his eyebrow while Harry looked between the two deciding to stay out of it.

"What?" Jo asked, her hand on her hip in a stance Harry recognized as one Ginny adopted whenever she was defensive.

"REO Speedwagon?" Dean asked indicating the jukebox.

"Damn right, REO," Jo responded as she stepped forward. "Kevin Cronin sings it from the heart."

"He sings it from the hair," Dean responded smirking sardonically. "There's a difference."

"Who's REO Speedwagon?" Harry piped up from where he was sitting next to Dean. While he didn't want to get between their not-quite flirting, he was curious about the music. Not because it sounded very good but he hadn't been exposed to too much muggle music and he was sick of Dean's. It wouldn't have been so bad, Harry supposed, if he had more than a few albums. The repetition was grating on Harry's last nerve, he didn't know how Sam hadn't killed his brother before now, he was sure he would have cracked ages ago. Jo looked appalled while Dean smiled, clinking his beer bottle with Harry's glass.

"You're forgiven," Dean said as Harry took a sip. He nodded in acceptance before looking at them both.

"No but seriously…?" Jo and Dean glanced at each other as they realized Harry had no clue who the group was. They both shook their heads, the kids these days…

Jo looked over her shoulder towards her mother who was wiping down glasses before turning back to face them. "That profile you've got Ash looking for…?" Dean raised his eyebrow in acknowledgement. "Your mom died the same way, didn't she? A fire in Sam's nursery?" Dean straightened and swallowed. He glanced toward Harry before responding.

"Look, Jo, it's kind of a family thing." Harry felt her eyes on him as well and knew she was questioning his involvement and while he may enjoy antagonizing his cousin, he knew to leave this well enough alone.

"I could help," Jo responded ardently.

"I'm sure you could," Dean said. "But we've gotta handle this one ourselves. Besides, if I ran off with you, I think your mother might kill me." Ellen looked towards the trio and a hard look crossed over her face. Dean smiled genially before turning back to Jo who was smirking at him.

"You're afraid of my mother?" she asked.

"I think so," he responded with a smile still on his face.

"Why?" Harry asked again. "Ellen's great!" Jo nodded in approval while Dean thought for a minute how to describe the exact way in which Ellen inspired fear in him.

"Just wait until you piss her off," Dean finally said. Harry thought of Mrs. Weasley and her anger during the last battle when Ginny was in trouble, or any time the twins were in trouble, or when she argued with Sirius, or…perhaps he should stop thinking about this. He swallowed compulsively and glanced towards Ellen who was now surveying them uncomfortably.

"Um, I think I get it now," Harry said quickly ducking his head and hastily drinking from his glass, trying to appear as if he'd been doing anything. Jo smirked at both men. Harry was like a breath of fresh air. Unlike most hunters who came in here, Harry smiled and laughed, at least with his cousins. He seemed to enjoy winding Dean up and yet he genuinely looked up to his older cousins. She'd seen the looks both Sam and Dean had given hunters who'd looked cross eyed at the boy and knew they'd kick anyone's ass who even considered crossing the younger kid.

Sam hurried over, stopping briefly beside the shorter woman. "We have a match. We gotta go."

"All right, Jo," Dean said tapping Harry's chest. The younger boy was gulping down the last of his soda before running the back of his hand across his mouth. "See you later."

**~*~*~ **

"_And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight. You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night. And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might_—" Dean sang several hours later as the Impala sped down the highway towards Oklahoma.

"You're kidding, right?" Sam asked incredulously. His brother was not seriously singing that song.

"So that's REO Speedwagon," Harry said thoughtfully. Sam glanced back at him. "No wonder you don't like him, that was bloody awful!" Dean glared at his cousin in the rearview mirror who shrugged his shoulders before a smirk spread across his features. "Or it could just be you." Sam snorted and Dean felt heat rising in his cheeks.

"I heard the song somewhere; I can't get it out of my head. I don't know, man. What do you got?" Dean asked in an attempt to change the subject. "And I sing like an angel!"

Harry nodded his head in apparent agreement, his smirk still firmly in place; Dean's scowl deepened. Sam smiled one last time catching Harry's eye before looking back down at his notes.

"Andrew Gallagher – born in '83, like me. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like me," Sam responded.

"You thinking the demon killed his mom?" Dean asked. Harry leaned forward in his seat. The younger boy knew there were other families affected by Voldemort's reign but none of them had been like him, no one else had survived the curse like him. The only one who had an inkling of what he'd gone through was Neville and even he didn't completely understand. It was odd that there were others like Sam.

"Sure looks like it," Sam said shuffling the papers together.

"How'd you even know to look for this guy?" Dean asked.

"Every premonition I've had – if they're not about the demon, they're about the other kids the demon visited. Like Max Miller, remember him?" Harry thought that sounded plausible. Every one of his visions was linked to Voldemort; it's only reasonable that Sam's were linked to the demon or the other children linked to the demon. So why was _he_ getting them?

"Yeah, but Max Miller was a pasty little psycho."

"The point is, he was killing people, and I was having the same type of visions about him. Now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy."

"How do we find him?" Dean asked. Harry, feeling his attention wander, pushed his pillow against the door behind Dean and stretched out in the back seat, being carefully not to get his shoes on the leather; he'd learned that lesson the hard way. He closed his eyes but didn't immediately drift to sleep letting his cousins' voice wash over him. Harry had found that their steady cadences and deep tones along with the gentle rocking of the Impala lulled him to sleep better than any dreamless sleep potion could.

"I don't know. No current address, no current employment. He still owes money on all his bills – phone, credit, utilities."

"Collection agency flags?"

"Not in the system."

"They just let him take a walk?"

"Seems like it. There's a work address from his last W-2, about a year ago. Let's start there." By the time Sam finished his sentence; soft snores could be heard coming from the backseat. Brown eyes watched the steady rise and fall of the younger boy's chest before lifting higher to his face. Sam smiled noticing Harry was actually sleeping. The brothers had learned quickly that Harry was really good at feigning sleep and they'd been more careful to be sure he was actually asleep than they'd been before.

"How's he doing?" Dean asked softly. Harry hadn't been sleeping well since their father's death but thankfully his nightmares appeared to be tapering off. Whenever he fell asleep in the car, he seemed to sleep better than in any of the motels they stayed at.

"Asleep," Sam responded. "I think Gordon really shook him up." Dean clenched his jaw tightly as he thought of that crazed bastard cutting into his cousin's arm to feed the vampire. "You don't think the demon'll come after him because of this, do you?" He knew it was his brother's greatest fear.

"He said he had ways of cloaking himself and us if it ever came to that." The pair of them had a big fight about where Harry would go if the demon ever came after him. Dean had wanted him to go stay with Bobby while Harry had vehemently refused, said he was done running and hiding. It was one of the worst fights they'd had yet and Sam had to step in before either said something they'd both regret. While Harry might have hit the older man in anger, Dean wouldn't have laid a finger on his cousin, not wanting to bring back memories. Neither brother had forgotten what the demon had said in the cabin before it had tortured him. _John's not the first uncle to hit you._ Dean shook his head to get rid of the direction his thoughts were taking him.

"Let's hope it never comes to that," Sam said softly. If his decision to go to school had been hard on Dean, Harry's absence would probably kill him. Sure, Sam was his brother and he'd practically raised him but the younger Winchester could see the way Dean treated their cousin. The age difference and lack of true parents made it incredibly easy for Dean to take that role, whether he realized it or not. Sam got to be the older brother for a change and it felt kinda nice. Scary as hell but nice.

**~*~*~**

The next morning, Sam and Dean were sitting in a diner where Andy had worked waiting to be served. Both were dressed in their suits and watching avidly as the waitress poured coffee into their cups. Having driven straight through the night, both were in need of a pick-me-up. Harry was sitting beside them invisible under his cloak as it would seem weird for them to be toting around a kid.

"You won't get anything out of Andy, guys," she warned as she turned to refill another customer's mug. "I'm sorry but they never do.

"They?" Sam asked curiously. The blond waitress smiled up at them from beneath her bangs.

"You're debt collectors right? Once in a while, they come by. I don't know what Andy says to them, but they never come back," she finished, a thoughtful look on her face. Dean smiled genially.

"Actually, we're lawyers, representing his great-aunt Lita," he explained professionally. "She passed, God rest her soul, but left Andy a sizable estate." Sam glanced towards the waitress.

"Yeah. So are you a friend of his?" Bored, Harry decided to test his wandless and nonverbal magic again. He concentrated on the sugar dispenser and kept repeating accio in his head. The dispenser began to rattle slightly before moving towards him. Sam's eyes got wide before he grabbed the dispenser as Tracy turned back to the table. He smiled at her while stomping down on Harry's foot. Dean coughed to cover Harry's sharp in-take of breath before glaring in the boy's general direction.

"I used to be, yeah," she said a little sad. "I don't see much of Andy anymore." Another employee who was bussing a table nearby walked around behind the waitress.

"Andy?" Harry scrambled back as the other man took his seat while Sam and Dean repositioned themselves, scraping their chairs trying to distract the two civilians. The younger boy glared at the man who stole his seat before smiling and wandering away. "Andy kicks ass man!"

"Is that right?" Dean asked a large fake smile on his face. He swallowed nervously as he realized he had no idea where his cousin went. They couldn't see him and they couldn't hear him as he put a silencing spell on his shoes. He hoped the idiot didn't do anything stupid.

"Yeah!" The brothers noticed the waitress' unamused look she was directing towards the man. "Andy can get you into anything, man. He even got me backstage at Aerosmith once. It was beautiful, bro."

"Uh-huh. How about bussing a table or two, Webber?" The uncomfortable silence that followed had all three men glancing away.

"Yeah, you bet boss," he said smiling. As he was getting up to leave, Webber took some empty mugs he'd set down earlier and turned. A loud crash was heard and Dean saw Webber sprawled on the floor, cups and glass everywhere. When he got up, coffee was quickly staining the front of his shirt. Webber blushed and tried to brush it off as Tracy bent to help him pick up the broken pieces. Dean glared around him and saw the chair shift slightly. He reached under the table and grabbed his cousin's arm tightly.

Tracy turned back towards them when she was done helping Webber. She seemed confused as to how two empty cups could have produced that much coffee when Webber tripped but she brushed it aside quickly.

"Look, if you wanna find him, try Orchard Street. Just look for a van with a Barbarian queen painted on the side." Dean raised his eyebrows.

"A Barbarian queen?"

"She's riding a polar bear. It's kind of hard to miss."

The brothers thanked her and she returned to work. Dean quickly repositioned his hand, keeping a firm grip on his cousin as he dragged him from the diner. Once they were outside and away from enough people, Dean pulled the cloak off. Harry smiled up at his cousins innocently.

"Dude, what part of secret do you not get?" Dean started as he stormed towards the car, still holding Harry's arm. He didn't like not being able to see his cousin and it had unnerved him slightly.

"Oh, c'mon, bloke totally deserved it," Harry exclaimed. "He took my seat!"

"He didn't know you were there!" Sam said reasonably. Harry rolled his eyes. Dean spun him around to face them with his back to the Impala and fixed him with a steely glare.

"Look, no more magic in public. No more wandering off under the cloak. And no more harassing people who can't see you. Got it?" Dean stared the younger boy down until Harry nodded.

"Yeah, yeah I got it." Harry got into the car while Sam wandered around to the passenger side. Dean turned to look towards the restaurant, a huge shit-eating grin spread across his face. C'mon it had been a pretty awesome prank.

**~*~*~**

She was right, the van was very hard to miss, polar bears and all. Harry was eying it carefully as was Dean who seemed to find the whole thing amusing. "I'm sorry, I'm starting to like this dude. That van is _sweet_."

"I quite agree," Harry said. "I personally think a design like that would look awesome drawn on the trunk of—" Dean caught his cousin's eye in the rearview mirror.

"You paint anything on my Impala and I will end you!" Harry merely smirked.

"Who said anything about the Impala?" The younger boy asked innocently. He knew he shouldn't be baiting Dean so soon after the diner fiasco but it was just too easy. "I was just going to suggest we try to spruce up that van of Bobby's we ditched."

"Hm-hmm," Dean responded. He turned to Sam expecting support but his jovial expression dropped upon the look Sam was giving him: his brow was furrowed and his lips were pressed into a thin line. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," came the low reply.

"Sam, you look like you're sucking on a lemon. What's going on?"

"This Andrew Gallagher," Sam responded, glaring at the van as though it's done him a personal wrong. "He's the second guy like this we've found, Dean. The demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people."

"We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, okay," Dean said, for once being the logical one of the pair. "Could be innocent."

"My visions haven't been wrong yet," Sam said immediately. Harry huffed in annoyance.

"Yeah, well there's a first time for everything," Harry said, remembering the vision of Sirius he was sent. "Maybe it's a false vision." He'd learned not to trust visions; particularly those he knew were coming from his worst enemies. Trelawney's prophesies were a little harder to ignore but Harry knew they weren't due to any connection to Voldemort.

"False vision?" Sam asked turning towards him.

"Yeah," Harry replied biting his lip nervously. "Maybe the demon planted it, wanting you to think this bloke was evil when really he's just an average guy."

"Why would he do that?" Sam countered. He was obviously not believing Harry and just figured he was trying to make him feel better.

"I don't know!" Harry huffed in annoyance again as he threw his hands up in the air dramatically. "Do I look like an evil mastermind?" Sam rolled his eyes and was about to retort when Dean broke in.

"Well, we _know_ you're an evil mastermind," he said jokingly. He turned back to his brother seriously. "What's your point? About this Andy guy?" Sam paused for a moment before continuing.

"My point is I'm one of them." Silence followed Sam's words before Dean smiled as though Sam were joking, or rather hoping Sam was joking.

"No, you're not," Dean said. Harry was fully ready to back him up but Sam spoke before he even opened his mouth.

"Dean, the demon said he had plans for me and children like me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, maybe this is his plan," Sam responded. Harry could tell his cousin was getting agitated. Not knowing why something was happening to you, what part you were expected to play in the grand scheme of things was the scariest thing, even more than knowing you just had a part. Harry refused to believe that Sam didn't have any choice in this, in his role. "Maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks! Maybe we're all supposed to be—"

"What, killers?"

"Well, yeah," he said uncertainly.

"So the demon wants you out there killing with your minds, is that it?" Harry could hear Dean's sarcastic tone. "Oh, give me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones! "

"Dean's right," Harry added. "No matter what the demon wants with you, you always have a choice and you wouldn't choose to be a murderer. You're not!" Sam may know how to protect himself and his family but he wouldn't kill someone for the hell of it. He's not a monster.

"No?" Sam asked. "Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things." Dean had a ready reply before he'd even finished his statement.

"Well, those things were askin' for it. There's a difference." Sam wanted to argue but glancing behind him at Harry, he clamped his mouth shut. He didn't want his cousin to be exposed to this, hell he didn't want him exposed to hunting but he didn't have to listen to them argue about him becoming a murderer. Sam turned to watch out the window for any sign of this Andy guy as Dean turned away.

Across the street, a guy matching Andy's description caught Sam's eye and he knew without a doubt that it was him. He was leaving an apartment building wearing jeans and a t-shirt as well as a silk robe. "Got him." He motioned towards Andy and Dean and Harry watched him saunter down the street. Sam felt his eyebrows rise when a beautiful blond woman waved from a window above.

Harry felt himself frowning as he watched Andy greet people jovially on the street, stopping one guy who handed him his cup of coffee. Either Andy was everybody's favorite guy or something more sinister was going on. He had a bad feeling he knew what it was but he didn't know how he was doing it.

Andy stopped at the corner to talk to a dark skinned older man dressed rather smartly in a suit. Harry's eyes widened as he recognized him but he swallowed nervously, praying Sam did as well.

"That's him. That older guy, that's him. That's the shooter," Sam said. Dean concentrated harder on the older man and what was happening but it looked like Andy was just talking to him.

"Well, you keep on him_, _Harry and I'll stick with Andy. Go." Sam slid from the car as Harry scrambled around to the front. He rarely got to sit in the front seat and he wasn't going to bypass such a perfect opportunity. Dean smiled to himself recognizing Harry's desire seeing as Sam had done the same thing when he was younger before pulling away from the curb following the van, keeping an eye on Andy but also tracking Sam's movement as far as he could.

Harry relaxed into the seat allowing his eyes to follow the van, wondering where the hell they were going but comfortable Dean would make sure nothing happen to him. Andy stopped at a stop sign and before either of them could do something, the driver's door opened. Dean grabbed the gun laying beside him, sliding it under his coat and keeping a tight grip on it. Andy leaned on the open window smiling but Harry felt himself growing more nervous.

"Hey!"

"Hey," Dean responded his voice a tad shaky. Andy just continued to smile.

"This is a cheery ride." He stood slightly to look at the hood before bending again.

"Yeah, thanks," Dean said politely. Harry smiled tightly.

"Man, you know, '67 – Impala's best year, if you ask me." Dean slid his hand out of his coat and rested it on his thigh. Harry rolled his eyes. Dean and his bloody car; honestly couldn't he tell the bloke was just flattering him? "This is a serious classic."

"I just rebuilt her too," Dean bragged running his hands along the steering wheel. "Can't let a car like this one go."

"Damn straight…Hey, can I have it?" Harry's jaw dropped when Dean continued to smile and cheerfully agreed.

"Sure man!"

Harrystared at Dean in shock. "Dean!" His cousin didn't appear to notice simply held the door open for the younger man to get in. No way would his cousin actually let a stranger drive his car, least of all with him still inside.

"Sweet!"

"Hop right in there," Dean slammed the door shut. "There you go."

Andy turned to Harry and said, "You can go with your brother." Harry glared at the older man. Andy was smiling at him and didn't appear to be threatening him in any way but there was something about the way he said it that made him expect to be obeyed.

"Get out of the car!" Harry growled and Andy seemed surprised for a moment.

"No, leave!" Harry felt the familiar sensation of someone entering his mind but pushed the weak attempt out as quickly as it came. The younger boy noticed that Dean was already heading away from the scene and Harry knew he couldn't let his cousin wander off so he quickly got out of the car and ran after Dean.

Harry quickly caught up with Dean and spun him around. The older man caught sight of the Impala driving away. "Dude, what the hell?"

Dean's eyes grew large. "Sonofabitch!"


	22. Part VI: Chapter 21

******Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Simon Said". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Here's the next chapter, nice and long. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter. With the end of the year looming, the little bits of encouragement are great. Thanks to Kirallie for being an awesome beta!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

It hadn't taken long before the doctor received a phone call on his cell, though as Sam took in his surroundings, he could tell they weren't right for this to be his vision. He sighed heavily. This whole hunt was bothering him; any that dealt with his visions always did. It didn't help that neither Harry nor Dean were with him on his hunches about Andy. He figured it was because they didn't want to believe that all the psychic kids were murders and therefore there was hope for Sam. The youngest Winchester didn't care about himself right now though but Andy's potential victims.

"Hello? Yeah?" Sam turned toward the doctor as a bus rumbled past, the Blue Ridge bus logo catching his eye. This is it. Taking a deep breath, Sam crossed in front of the bus and hurried across the street towards the gun shop. Upon entering, Sam noticed the man in the back, leaning against the glass case reading a magazine. He knew he had little time to somehow keep the doctor from the store and he had few options. Turning around, Sam saw a fire extinguisher as well as a cord running up the side of the door. He followed the cord with his eyes to a fire alarm. Before he could rethink his plan, he pulled the cord. A loud screeching wail filled the shop but Sam had already turned and was leaving the store before anyone noticed he was there.

Outside, the brunette loped down the stairs, his gaze appeared to scan the crowd nonchalantly but he was focused solely on the doctor. The older man stopped his leisurely stroll and appeared confused before turning and walking away. Sam sighed in relief and began to walk away; however, the rumble of the Impala caught his attention. The man inside shocked him though. Andy was rolling down the street, sitting comfortably in Dean's beloved car chatting on the phone as though it was the most natural thing in the world. His brother and cousin were nowhere in sight.

"Dean!" Sam said. Getting his phone out and his brother's number dialed took less time than Sam thought it had. "Andy's got the Impala!"

"_I know_!" Dean responded, clearly agitated though he didn't sound hurt thankfully. "_He just sort of asked me for it, and then I let him take it_."

"You _what_?!" His brother barely let _him_ drive the car let alone strangers. What the hell happened?

"_He full-on Obi-Wan'd me! It's mind control, man_!" Sam took several calming breaths as he let the information sink in.

"Harry? Is Harry all right?" Sam knew his brother loved his car but his cousin was far more important than anything. Nothing, not even mind control, could make Dean allow anyone to hurt him.

"_He's fine. He hasn't stopped smirking at me since he stopped yelling at me. Kid's not going to be smiling once I kick his ass_!" Sam had a feeling that last part wasn't said for him; he smiled. It was nice that someone else was annoying his brother. He glanced around him and his gaze fell on the doctor crossing the street. Before he could shout a warning, Sam saw a bus crash into him. He felt as though he'd been sucker punched as he let the phone fall to his side, his brother's shouts unheard.

Dean and Harry arrived a few minutes later and sat with him as they watched the EMTs load the doctor into a black bag. He felt the stabbing feeling of defeat and stinging tears spring to his eyes. "I kept him out of the gun store. I thought he was okay. I thought he was past it, at least…I should have stayed with him."

~*~*~

The sight of the Impala had all three boys sighing in relief, though none more so than Dean who rushed towards the car as soon as he saw it as though it were his child he'd lost in a grocery store. Harry caught Sam's eye and smiled, in an attempt to cheer him up. The younger boy didn't think it'd work but Sam quirked his lips anyway.

"Thank God. I'm sorry, baby. I'll never leave you again." He ran his hands lovingly over shiny black paint meticulously checking for any scratches or dents. He checked the back before scanning the interior. "At least he left the keys in it."

"Yeah, real Samaritan, this guy," Sam commented sarcastically.

"You know we could have just hotwired it," Harry suggested. Sam brought his hand up to cover a smile while Dean's eyes grew large. The younger boy attempted to backpedal. "It was only a suggestion."

"I think she's been violated enough," Dean said coldly. "Looks like he can't work his mojo just by twitchin' his nose. He's gotta use verbal commands." He turned towards Harry. "Which you seemed immune to."

"Practice," Harry responded shrugging. Dean opened his mouth to respond but Sam spoke over him, not hearing the younger boy's response.

"The doctor had just gotten off his cell phone when he stepped in front of that bus. Andy must have called him or something," Sam said vehemently.

"I don't know, maybe," Dean said noncommittally as he turned away. Sam glanced back down at his cousin who shrugged. The older man scoffed as he realized both of them weren't being very helpful.

"Beg your pardon?"

"I just don't know if he's our guy, Sam."

"Dean, you had O.J. convicted before he got out of his white Bronco, and you have doubts about _this_?" Sam asked incredulously. He couldn't believe his own brother was doubting him about this, this thing that was so important.

"He just doesn't seem like the stone-cold killer type, that's all," Dean replied evenly.  
"And O.J. was guilty!"

"Look I'm not saying he's guilty or not guilty, but we should keep our minds open about this," Harry said, breaking through the brothers' conversation. "The ones you least expect are most likely the ones that are in it the worst. Even the animals you don't expect…Sorry, long story. Anyway, if I had to guess though, I don't think he's guilty either." Dean nodded and gestured as if to say, _See? Thank you!_ Sam shrugged, not happy he was up against both his cousin and his brother. "It's just…I've learned to trust my instincts. Remember that Papazian bloke, something felt wonky about him to me and he ended up being the bloke who was munching on tourists."

Harry paused to let his words settle in his cousin's mind before continuing. "Well, right now this bloke, he's not setting off my radar. I may not like that he has this mind control power but I don't think he's using it to kill people. Now I'm not saying I'm wrong about him, because I've been wrong in the past, but can't you just entertain the notion that maybe you're wrong?"

"Then who, huh?" Sam asked not answering his cousin's last question. Harry deflated a little before shaking his head in frustration.

"I don't know." His older cousin sighed before running his hand through his hair.

"Either way, how are we gonna track this guy down?" Dean started to open his mouth but stopped upon seeing Harry's expression. It appeared as if the younger boy was struggling with something, his eyes scrunching together in thought. Both cousins raised their eyebrows in expectation but allowed him to come to his own conclusions.

"Well," Harry bit his lip. "I might have an idea." He pulled out his wand and ran it lightly through his thumb and index finger. Dean swallowed before nodding. It was one thing for the kid to practice in the motel room in front of them but another to do it in public; he'd told them about the laws, particularly the ones about performing magic in front of muggles. They were worried not only about the government but also people freaking out and going after their cousin. Harry felt relief flood him before flicking his wand; it still amazed him how accepting his cousins were, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. "_Point-me Andy_!" The wand began to spin in Harry's palm but nothing happened. He stared at it oddly before trying again. "Maybe his mind control thing extends to not being found."

"Try his van," Dean said encouragingly without sounding encouraging and the younger shrugged before applying the spell again, this time to Andy's van. This time it worked perfectly and the three of them set off, following the wand. It took a little bit of time but they found the vehicle and Dean smiled at Harry.

"Good work, dude," he said before wandering closer to the van. "Let's take a look." He glanced around as he pulled out a lever and jimmied the lock. Opening the doors, Dean smiled while Sam felt his jaw drop. "Oh, c'mon…This is…this is magnificent, that's what this is. " Harry couldn't see anything due to the older boys blocking his vision but he pushed through and felt his eyes nearly bug out of his head. _Sweet Merlin…_

Inside, the van looked as though it'd been brought directly from the sixties complete with disco ball and a tiger painted on the side. Fur rugs covered the floor and beads hung between the front two seats. Pillows, blankets, books and other items littered the back of the van.

"Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no little clown paintings on the walls or scissors stuck in victims' photos," Dean commented while Sam picked up some of the books. "I like the tiger." Harry couldn't stop smiling. Whatever anger he felt towards Andy and his ability was quickly being overshadowed by his lifestyle. This was why the bloke wasn't out killing people. Had he actually known Sirius in third year, he would have realized that too. People like Andy and Sirius, who were simply too awesome for their own good, didn't kill people. It had to be against a law somewhere.

"Hegel? Kant? Wittgenstein? That's some pretty heavy reading, Dean," Sam said. Dean's eyes grew large before he picked up an oddly shaped glass tube with several rubber hoses coming from it.

"Yeah, and, uh…Moby Dick's bong." Harry smiled as he reached into the van and both older men grabbed his arm. Sam pulled him away while Dean shut the door behind him, both suddenly serious and not at all joking.

"Oh, c'mon," Harry complained. "That's so not fair!"

~*~*~

A couple hours later, the three were watching the van from the Impala parked in a nearby vacant lot. Sam had wandered back to the car while Dean watched the van with Harry who refused to leave in case Andy returned. While he was out, Sam picked up lunch for them. Unfortunately due to the time constraint, he only stopped at a local convenience store rather than the diner which looked tempting. Dean had made a face at his heated sandwich but didn't complain. Sam knew his cousin didn't enjoy big meals so he'd just gotten him a ham sandwich, much more likely to be fresh than Dean's lunch.

"Ugh," Dean crumpled up his wrapper and tossed it over his shoulder into the backseat. "You know, one day, I'd love to just sit down and eat something that I didn't have to microwave in a mini-mart."Perhaps Sam had spoken too soon on the complaining part; this was his brother after all, he should have known. Harry eyed the wrapper in disgust before balling it up further and chucking it at Dean's head. It bounced off and landed in his lap. Dean glared over his shoulder while Harry raised his eyebrow. He had cooked for them while they'd stayed with Bobby but on hunts it was harder to go out, buy ingredients and make something for dinner.

"What I don't get is the motive," Sam said not even looking up from his papers. He had gotten used to his brother and cousin annoying one another that he didn't even bother trying to stop them. "I mean, the doctor was squeaky clean. Why would Andy waste him?"

"If it _is_ Andy," Dean and Harry said together, their staring competition broken. Sam looked up suddenly, his face a mask of anger.

"Dudes, enough!"

"What?" Dean asked innocently. Harry just sat back; it looked like Dean had this covered anyway. Besides he'd tried to convince Sam, it was his brother's turn.

"The doctor was mind-controlled in front of a bus. Andy just happens to have the power of mind control. You do the math," Sam finished, his eyes glaring.

"I just don't think the guy's got it in him, that's all," Dean replied, sounding like a broken record. Harry knew the brothers argued a lot but this was getting ridiculous. He was about ready to just silence them both and deal with Andy himself.

"Well, how the hell would you know? I mean, why are you bending over backwards, defending him?" Sam asked. Harry turned towards Dean. It actually was a decent question. Harry had explained his reasoning to Sam but Dean…Dean hadn't. Why was he so adamant that Andy wasn't killing people?

"'Cause you're not right about this," Dean said.

"About Andy?" Sam asked incredulously. He opened his mouth to add something more but the object of their discussion poked his head into the passenger's side window.

"Hey! You think I haven't seen you two? Why are you following me?" Harry was ready this time and he didn't even have to work to keep Andy out.

"Well, we're lawyers. See, a relative of yours has passed away—" Harry sighed gratefully; at least Sam wasn't affected like Dean was.

"Tell the truth!" This time it was a little more forceful. Harry shivered as he couldn't help but remember another boy saying that very same phrase, though he was younger and definitely wouldn't have had a tiger painted in his van.

"That's what I'm—" Sam said conversationally, not at all perturbed by the mind control. However, Dean couldn't control himself.

"We hunt demons." Sam turned towards his brother in shock while Harry groaned before letting his head fall into his hands. There wasn't much he could do to stop him. His own _imperius_ probably wouldn't be strong enough to counteract Andy's; his mental defenses were enough to keep Andy out but not enough to stop Dean from talking.

"What?" The older boy obviously hadn't been expecting that response.

"Demons, spirits – things your worst nightmare wouldn't even touch. That's my cousin Harry and Sam here, he's my brother—"

"Dean, shut up!" Sam said. His brother was breaking the cardinal rule of being a Winchester: we do what we do and we shut up about it.

"He can't," Harry responded from the backseat.

"I'm trying," Dean said under his breath through grit teeth. Sam squirmed in his seat before turning back to Andy. "He's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer, and he's afraid that he's gonna become one himself, 'cause you're all part of something that's terrible, and I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right. Now Harry, _he's_—"

"Okay, you know what?" It appeared that Andy could only take so much. "Just leave me alone."

"Okay," Dean dropped his head in his hands. He hated talking about his feelings and he'd just been forced to by some dude he'd been defending. It just didn't sit well with him. Sam immediately got out of the car and followed Andy. Harry scrambled after him before Dean could stop him.

"What are you doing?" Andy turned to face Sam as he continued to back away from him. "Look, I said leave me alone! Get out of here! Just start driving and never stop!" Sam continued to advance before circling him like a tiger circling his prey.

"Doesn't seem to work on me, Andy," he said. He threw his arm behind him motioning for Dean and Harry to stay where they were by the car.

"What?" When he'd taken the car earlier, Harry hadn't been able to stop him. Andy was older and a bit taller plus he didn't have to worry about Dean wandering off into traffic. Sam on the other hand was intimidating and knew exactly where his brother was. Plus Harry seemed to be immune just as Sam was.

"You can make people do things, can't you?" Sam asked, already knowing the answer. "You can tell them what to think." Andy laughed nervously."

"That's crazy," he responded weakly.

"It all started about a year ago, didn't it? After you turned twenty-two. Little stuff at first, then you got better at controlling it." Andy faltered as he listened to what Sam was saying.

"How did you know all this?"

"'Cause the same thing happened to me, Andy. My mom died in a fire, too. I have abilities, too. You see, we're connected, you and me." Andy shook his head vehemently, refusing to believe what this guy was telling him.

"You know what," he held up his hand in an attempt to stop Sam from coming closer. "Just get out of here, all right?" Sam's eyes hardened and stopped caring about trying to make Andy understand. He needed answers and Andy had them.

"Why'd you tell the doctor to walk in front of a bus?" Andy stumbled a little staring at Sam in shock.

"What?" Sam blinked as images assaulted him, Andy's words barely penetrating. _A woman standing in a gas station. Fire, burning – the woman was burning. _Harry stumbled and brought his hand up to his head, clearly in pain. Dean glanced at him but Harry shook his head, indicating he was fine. Sam shook his head to clear it.

"Why did you kill him?"

"I didn't!" Andy denied strongly. Sam sucked in a sharp breath as he squeezed his eyes shut as his vision began to take over. Dean ran over ignoring his cousin for a moment in favor of his brother.

_A blond woman was getting out of her car and began filling her tank with gas. Her phone rang. Holding it up to her ear, she listened carefully to the words coming from the other end of the line. Her carefree expression dropped in favor of a stoic one. _

"_Hello?...Sure. I can do that." She closed the phone and put it in her pocket. Reaching into her car, she pushed the lighter until the little red light showed. She then grabbed the nozzle from her gas tank and began to pour the gas over her body, being sure to soak her hair and clothes. A man coming from out of the garage saw her and his face dropped in fear._

"_Hey! Lady, what are you doing?!" She turned towards the voice and held up her hand consolingly. _

"_It's gonna be okay," she said. Taking the lighter from her car, its tip red hot, she placed the light against her coat ignoring the man's shouts for her to stop. Her body erupted into flames but rather than flailing in pain and fear, she knelt down reverently and allowed her body to burn. _

Sam came out of his vision and nearly toppled. If Dean hadn't been there to hold him up and gently lower him to the ground, he would have slammed down. A loud popping noise was heard. Dean looked into his brother's eyes urgently.

"Sam! What is it?" Andy held up his hands pleadingly as Sam continued to take deep breathes.

"I didn't do anything to him."

"A woman…a woman burning alive." Dean tried to remain calm and not immediately think of his mother or Jess. Please don't let it be like that…

"What else you get?" he asked urgently. Sam held his head into his hands kneading his skull as he tried to get the pain to recede.

"A gas station…a woman's gonna kill herself." He lifted his head and looked his brother in the eye significantly. Dean nodded to show he understood.

"What does he mean, 'going to'? What is he ta—" Andy's rambling questions were brought to a halt abruptly by Dean.

"Shut up." The audible click of the younger man's teeth smashing shut was heard. Dean didn't even turn from his vigil. Sam had more to tell him, he knew it.

"She gets triggered by a call on her cell." Damn it. Dean really hoped Andy was an okay guy but Sam's vision was making it hard for him to believe in him. Everybody can be deceiving when they want to be. There was little they could do for now.

"When?" Dean pulled his brother to his feet, being careful to hold the majority of his weight as Sam was still wobbling like a newborn calf. The younger man shook his head.

"I don't know," he glared at Andy who was continuing to watch them cautiously with not a little thread of fear. "But as long as we keep our eyes on this son of a bitch, he can't hurt her."

"I didn't hurt anybody!" Andy burst out desperately.

"Yeah, not yet," he responded caustically. A fire truck roared past them, its siren blaring loudly. The three watched its movement with their eyes. "Go." Dean spared one last glance at his brother before hurrying to the car. Andy began to follow him but Sam grabbed his arm tightly. "No, not you. You're staying here with me." He sighed nervously before looking back towards where the car had been.

"Where'd the kid go?"

**~*~*~**

Dean arrived on the scene and saw a stretcher with EMTs surrounding it running towards an ambulance. As soon as the body was loaded, the vehicle peeled out of the gas station, its sirens blaring. He saw his cousin sitting on the back of another ambulance, with an EMT talking to him. Dean ran up to him as the woman was finishing up her questions.

"Dude, what the hell?" He quickly scanned him for injuries but Harry seemed perfectly fine if not a little smoky. Harry sighed. "How'd you even get here?"

"Apparation," the younger boy said, staring at the place where the ambulance had been. He noticed Dean's confusion so he elaborated. "It's like teleportation. When I got here, she burst into flames. I think she'd just lit her coat up. I couldn't stop it but I tried to help."

"It's okay, man," Dean said, gripping the boy's shoulder tightly. Harry wasn't really paying any attention to him and continued speaking, as though he needed to explain.

"I was able to perform the flame-freezing charm relatively quickly but she was already burned some. I ran forward with a blanket I'd conjured and wrapped it around her while I cast some aguamenti charms and extinguishing spells. I had most of the fire put out when the firemen and EMTs arrived. She was still pretty badly burned but they said she'll probably survive." Harry had said this all in a monotone and Dean stepped into his line of sight. He lifted Harry's face to meet his eyes.

"Anybody see you?" Dean asked, worried his cousin had been seen using magic.

Harry shook his head before pulling his hand out from his sleeve slightly. It was curled around the wand which was just barely visible. "No, I kept my wand under the blanket or concealed." The older man nodded in acknowledgement.

"You did good, Harry," Dean said. Harry nodded slowly before sighing. "How'd you know about the woman?" The younger boy's eyes grew and he swallowed nervously before glancing up.

"Hey, it's me," Dean said a few minutes later once he'd gotten a hold of Sam on his phone. "She's fine. Harry was able to save her."

"_Harry?_"

"Yeah, don't ask. What's up with your visions, man? This wasn't even head start." Dean wasn't going to explain what happened over the phone where they could be overheard. Plus he figured it was Harry's job to have that conversation with Sam. He was not going to stand in the way of his brother's anger, not when he himself wanted answers just as much.

"_I don't know, all right? I can't control 'em. I don't know what the hell is going on_."

"Listen you were with Andy when this whole thing went down, so it can't be him. It's gotta be somebody else doing this," Dean said. He heard his brother sigh over the line.

"_Just like Harry said_," Sam replied. Dean felt his lips twitch upwards. "_I hate it when he's right…This doesn't make any sense._" While Dean would normally like to crack more jokes, they were running out of time and ideas.

"What else is new? I'll dig around here; see what else I can find." He hung up without waiting for a goodbye. Dean turned back to his cousin. "Visions? You get visions too?" He couldn't believe it. This was great, just freakin' great. "When were you gonna tell us?"

"Well, I don't think they're _my_ visions," Harry hedged, not really answering Dean's question. "I think I'm piggybacking on Sam's."

"So what, you're some kind of psychic interloper?" Dean asked skeptically.

"I don't know, maybe?" Harry wrapped the blanket more tightly around him. Dean sighed heavily.

"We're not done talking about this, you know we gotta tell Sam, right?" Harry nodded and Dean wandered over to smooze the EMT who had worked on his cousin. Maybe she could give him some information. At least the woman was alright, or at least not dead.

**~*~*~**

Sam had been watching Andy closely, anxiously awaiting Dean's call but when it came, he felt all his certainty leave him. It wasn't Andy, just like Dean and Harry had been saying all along. How could he be so wrong about his guy? Normally his instincts of people were pretty accurate, he had to know how to properly read people in his line of work, but this guy, this case, he was wrong. He glanced under his bangs at the other man and surveyed him for a moment. He'd explained his visions once it became apparent it wasn't Andy.

"You get these premonitions about people about to die?" the younger boy asked. Sam nodded in response. "That's impossible." Sam smiled slightly at his declaration; that was always people's first response.

"A lot of people would say the same thing about what you do," Sam replied reasonably. Andy eyed him for a minute.

"Death visions?" he clarified for what felt like the fiftieth time but Sam was nothing if not patient.

"Yeah."

"Dude, that sucks," his response surprised Sam until Andy further elaborated, then he was really surprised. "When I got my mind thing, it was like a gift, you know? It was like I won the lotto."

"But you still live in a van," he spluttered. "I don't get it. I mean, you could have anything you ever wanted." Andy looked at him carefully before responding in a quiet voice.

"I've got everything I need." It was the absolute innocence of his response that Sam was drawn to, that proved to him that Andy was telling the truth. He didn't want anything else, he didn't use his gift to hurt other people or really to help himself, besides not having to pay bills; he simply lived his life.

"So, you're really not a killer, huh?" Andy chuckled.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you." His smile was infectious and Sam felt himself smiling too.

"That's good. It means there's hope for both of us." The growl of the Impala broke through their conversation and they watched it pull up and Dean get out. Harry followed him and Sam checked him over for injuries. Other than the smoke still clinging to him, he appeared to be fine, though he wouldn't look Sam in the eye.

"Victim's name was Holly Beckett – forty-one, single," Dean said by way of introduction. Sam turned towards Andy for clarification.

"Who is she?" the younger boy's blank look met his.

"Never heard of her." Sam felt his frustration grow, couldn't they catch a damn break?

"I called Ash on the way over here," Dean said, sensing Sam's aggravation. "He came up with a little somethin'. Apparently, Holly Beckett gave birth when she was eighteen years old, back in 1983. Same day you were born, Andy." Sam turned back to Andy.

"Andy were you adopted?"

"Well, yeah," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Dean narrowed his eyes in frustration.

"You were? And you neglected to mention that?" Harry rolled his eyes. Honestly, they don't normally ask people if they're adopted, nor do people generally go around telling people that.

"It never really came up. I mean, I never knew my birth parents. And, like you said, my adopted mom died when I was a baby. Do you think this Holly woman could actually be—"

"I don't know. I tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only. Sealed in the county office." Harry could have gotten them probably or at least gotten them in, c'mon he'd broken into the Ministry of Magic, a dinky county records office would be no problem, but Dean had refused to let him out of the car. He'd said the younger boy looked a little ill but it was how he always felt when he was too late to save someone. He also had a feeling Dean thought the Harry had performed enough magic for one day, didn't want to run the risk of exposure if they didn't have to.

"Well, screw that."

A half hour later the four of them were in the records office at the County Office. Andy was talking to one of the guards who'd let them while the other were going through papers.

"I probably shouldn't have let you kids in here," the older man had started to say but Andy was gently leading him towards the door.

"No, it'll all be fine, all right? Just go get a cup of coffee, all right?" He waved his hand through the air. "These aren't the droids you're looking for." Dean smiled as he watched the officer walk away.

"Awesome." Harry watched Andy before glaring down at the papers in his hand; Dean caught his look as did Sam."What's up with you?"

Harry looked up carefully masking his emotions. "Nothing." Dean and Sam shared a look but let it go in favor of trying to figure out what was going on. Sam had a feeling he knew exactly why Harry was glaring. It's probably for the same reason he glared at Mary Anderson in the third grade. He was jealous; Harry was jealous of Andy who Dean was clearly impressed with. There might be more to it, since Harry had mentioned not liking Andy's gift but there was definitely jealously in those green eyes. Sam figured it had to do with Dean allowing Andy to use his gift when he was hesitant to let Harry. But he knew his brother, knew how worried he was about Harry getting caught whereas Andy was a great guy sure, but when it came down to it, he was expendable.

"Got it," Sam said a few minutes later.

"Yeah?" Dean asked as the others put down their papers and moved towards Sam. He glanced up and nodded.

"Yeah. Andy, it's true. Holly Beckett was your birth mother," he replied. Andy stared stunned into space as the ramifications of what this meant drifted into his mind. The brothers had decided against telling Andy about his mother's condition in case it somehow got out that she was still alive. Harry was able to convince Dean to at least take him to the hospital so that he could put some protection charms on her that would prevent her from hurting herself since that seems to be the killer's MO.

"Does anybody have a Vicodin?" Andy asked weakly but the others ignored him.

"Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too," Sam continued. "I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them."

"Yeah, but I didn't kill 'em," Andy said, not quite sure they believed him now they had evidence he was connected to them.

"We believe you," Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam reiterated. He may have thought he was guilty in the beginning but the more time he spent with the guy the more he realized how wrong he was. Andy was just a good guy.

"But, uh…who did?" asked Harry breaking into their conversation for the first time.

"I think I got a pretty good guess," Sam said flipping to the next document. "Holly Beckett gave birth to twins."

**~*~*~**

Fifteen minutes later, Andy was having a little trouble accepting Sam's revelation. It was one thing to find out you had relatives but another to find out you had a twin. Even Harry couldn't begrudge him his shock.

"I have…an evil twin," he said hollowly. Sam had quickly found the information he was looking for.

"Holly put you and your brother up for adoption. You went to the Gallagher family, obviously. And your brother went to the Weems family from upstate." Dean watched the younger man slowly fall apart. He hoped he could deal with everything they were throwing at him.

"Andy, how you doing? Still with us?"

"It'll be alright," Harry said quietly. "It'd be best not to try to kill him though. Just speaking from experience." He smiled slightly as all three turned towards him, faces in various shades of shock. "My godfather was a convicted felon who broke out of prison to see me…he was innocent but I didn't know that when I found out. I was justifiably angry with him."

Andy seemed to break out of his shock as the younger boy's admission. He wasn't stupid, he knew Harry didn't particularly like him, so the fact that he was trying to make him feel better actually helped. "Um…what was my brother's name?"

Sam's eyes darted over the papers. "Here…um, Ansem Weems." Andy shook his head. Just like his mother, he didn't recognize the name. "He's got a local address."

"Wait, he lives here?" Andy asked shocked. The sound of a paper coming though a copier filled the room.

"Let's get a look at him. There's a picture coming over from the DMV right now," Dean said as he waited for the fax to be completed. Once he picked it up and saw the picture, he felt his stomach drop. "I hate to kick you while you're freaked." He handed the picture to Andy and Sam and Harry glanced over his shoulder. "Take a look at that."


	23. Part VI: Chapter 22

******Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Simon Said". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Here's the last chapter for this part and for about three weeks. The end of school, finals and graduation is going to keep me fairly busy, so until it's all over I won't be posting. That's not to say I won't be writing, it'll keep me calm while I study postmodernism in English Literature or democracy in Russia, but not posting...sorry! Though I will leave you with this juicy morsel, the next part won't be a Supernatural episode. Thanks to all my awesome reviewers; your lovely comments keep me going and make me so happy. Thanks to Trenchcoat Man and Allen Pitt for letting me bounce ideas off them, you guys are seriously amazing. Thanks goes out to Kirallie for betaing this for me. Chica, you are wonderful, keeping my comma addiction under control as well as my run-on sentences.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**~*~*~**

Later that evening, the four men piled into the Impala and sped off towards the diner, hoping to get there before Webber left for the evening. It had been mostly silent but as they drew closer, the brothers knew they'd need some more information before going in. Andy was leaning against the front seat between the brothers while Harry sat behind Sam as the older boy was in his usual spot. This only caused Harry to glower at him slightly. He may have tried to make him feel better but his sympathy only went so far.

"All right, Andy," Sam said breaking through the silence. "Tell us everything you know about his guy."

Andy shook his head noncommittally. "Well, not much that I…Webber shows up one day…eight months ago, acting like he's my best friend in the world. Kind of weird, like…trying too hard, you know?" Sam ducked his head closing his eyes against the pain that suddenly struck him. Andy glanced at him warily before his attention was caught by the boy next to him whose face was screwed up in pain as well.

"He must have known you guys were twins. Why did he change his name? Why not just tell you the truth?" Dean said.

"No idea," Andy responded as Sam continued to clutch his head in pain before groaning in pain. Harry curled into a ball and rolled forward, cradling his head silently. Andy stared at him. "Hey, he's not looking so good back here…"

"Sam?" Dean glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Harry holding his breath, face scrunched up in pain but not making any sound. He realized what was happening. "Shit."

_The blond girl from the diner was walking steadily towards a railing in nothing but a satin slip. Her face was lined with tears tracks. Upon reaching the railing she stepped up and her sorrow diminished in the wake of her fear. She glanced back over her shoulder and began to cry again. She spread her arms wide as she stepped over onto the other side of the railing before stepping off and falling down along the side of the dam. _

The vision was painful but coming out of it was the worst. Groaning, Sam rocked back and forth as he attempted to get away from the pain. Dean slid the car over onto the side of the road glancing in the back seat. Harry was curled in on himself but not making any sound or moving at all.

"Sam? Sam!" Once the car was stopped, Dean hurried around to the passenger side and sat on his heels in the open door. "Hey!" Harry's eyes fluttered open and Andy was watching him hesitantly before Dean glanced behind Sam and caught the younger boy's eye. Harry's face was covered in a sheen of sweat but he nodded tiredly.

Sam took a deep breath before leaning back into his seat. "I'm fine, we got to go, now." Dean wavered for a minute. Neither his cousin nor his brother looked well enough to fight a possessed kitten let alone a homicidal mind-controlling freak.

"It's that girl from the diner," Harry said bringing Sam's attention to him.

"Tracy?" Andy asked hesitantly, almost not wanting to know the answer but needing to.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Harry bit his lip and looked away. "You…you get them too?"

"Look there's no time," Harry said, pushing his growing headache away. "Tracy's in trouble."

**~*~*~**

After changing their route, the Impala made it to the dam in record time. Dean pulled up quietly just out of range and killed the lights and engine. The brothers got out of the car and hurried around to the trunk, leaving Andy and Harry in the car for now.

"Dean, you should stay back," Sam suggested cautiously, expecting a fight from his brother; however, the older man was perfectly in sync of with him.

"No argument here. I've had my head screwed with enough for one day."

"I'll watch him," Harry said from beside the brothers. The brothers looked up and noticed Harry and Andy standing next to the doors. Sam quickly agreed, not wanting his younger cousin anywhere near Webber even if he was also immune to his abilities. He was worried about him though. He knew Harry had told them his parents had been killed by a wizard but what if that's what he thought had happened, what if really was the demon? He had visions, he was immune to the Andy's gifts, his parents died when he was a baby, it all fit.

"I'm coming with you," Andy said defiantly as Sam was pulling a gun from the bag. He looked up and shook his head.

"Andy, no—"

"Look, if it's Tracy out there…then I'm coming." Sam knew a resolved man when he saw one and he knew Andy wasn't going to just sit this one out. He glanced at Dean who shrugged indicating it was Sam's decision. After a minute, he nodded.

As he and Andy headed toward the dam, he grabbed Harry's arm. The younger boy's green eyes flickered around but never landing on Sam's face; he waited until Harry finally looked him in the eye. "We _will_ be talking about this later." Sam didn't think he'd ever say those words. His father had said them to him, what seemed like all the time, and he'd hated it. Unfortunately he couldn't stop the words from slipping out his mouth. Harry nodded quickly, looking decidedly chastised before wandering off with Dean. Sam swallowed the urge to call him back, to tell him everything would be alright, because it wasn't alright and Harry needed to know that. Sam realized this parenting thing was harder than he thought. He definitely should have cut his dad a little more slack. Somehow Sam thinks this is karma's way of punishing him.

**~*~*~**

The trek through the woods kept the boys' thoughts to themselves as they, in Harry's case attempted to, silently navigate through the underbrush so they didn't alert Webber to their position. Dean stopped and motioned towards the ground before dropping and settling his sniper rifle upon his shoulder while Harry nestled beside him, his wand held tightly and aimed towards the car visible through the trees. Dean cleared his throat.

"You want to be down there, don't you?" he asked, keeping his eyes alert and focused.

"Yeah," Harry replied after a minute. "But Andy deserves the opportunity to confront his brother. It's not my fight." Silence followed as Dean considered what his cousin had just said.

"That's bullshit," Dean said quietly. Harry shifted to stare at him before sighing.

"Yeah, you're right," Harry responded. "Those people down there, I don't care about them. I mean, yeah I hope nothing happens to them, but you and Sam, you're the ones that matter. You're the ones I want to save. For once, I want to be selfish. So no, I don't want to be down there. I'm happy right where I am." Dean nodded as he kept his eyes trained forward just as his father had taught him. Harry's little proclamation was a little more chick flick-y than he'd like but it served its purpose.

"You and Sam need to stop watching Lifetime," Dean commented to dispel the emotion still in the air while Harry rolled his eyes.

Once they were in position, Harry and Dean watched as the two men approached the car from the vision. Sam was easy to spot with his hulking figure and quick strides. They watched as his white cast flew through the air and smashed into the driver's side window. He aimed the pistol at the other man.

"Get out of the car! Now!" Webber must have said something to Sam, tried his ability on him but Sam reacted by backhanding him with his cast, more than likely breaking his nose. Andy ran up to the car and wrenched it open.

"Tracy!"

"Andy!" The girl's voice drifted towards them and they saw her scramble from the car, clutching Andy as he dragged her away.

"Come here! Come here!" He held her close as her emotions got the better of her. She began trying to explain herself, tripping over her words but Andy continued trying to sooth her.

"I couldn't control myself!" Meanwhile Sam had grabbed Webber's shirt and hauled him bodily from the car, throwing him to ground. He pinned him down on his knees and using the gun as leverage kept him still.

"Don't move, don't move." Andy broke free from Tracy and slammed a piece of duct tape over the other man's mouth before kicking him viciously in the stomach. "No!"

"I will kill you!" Andy shouted as he continued trying to get around Sam who was holding him back.

"No, I will handle this!" Harry tensed as he watched Andy fall apart. He understood the rage, the anger, the need for revenge and he knew it could compromise everything if Sam couldn't get him back under control. "Let me handle this, all right? Andy, no! Listen to me. Listen to me!" Before either Dean or Harry could stop what was happening, the girl had smashed a tree branch across Sam's back effectively knocking his out. Andy turned towards her and held up his hands.

"Tracy, stop!" She continued to hold the branch. "I said stop it!" She dropped the branch and he whirled to glare at the other man as Webber was slowly peeling the tape off his mouth. "How did you do that?"

"Practice, bro," Webber responded after spitting out a mouthful of blood. The voices carried on the wind now that they were out of the car. "If you'd just practice, you would know. Sometimes, you don't need to use your words. If you have to, all you need is this." He tapped his head. "Sometimes the headaches worth it."

"You're a twisted son of a bitch!" Andy said as he grabbed the man by his jacket.

"Back off, Andy. Tracy's gonna do a little flying." Andy turned to face the railing where the girl had climbed onto the railing. "Aren't you, Trace? I'm stronger than you. I can do it." Harry shifted slightly wanting to run to her but Dean grabbed his arm. He caught the younger boy's eye and shook his head minutely. Harry knew it would probably spook the other man into making her jump early but he wished he could help. While he wanted to keep his cousins safe above all else, his "saving people thing" was rearing its ugly head. Harry really needed to learn to be more selfish. He turned back to watch as Andy released him and stepped back.

"Okay, okay. All right, just…please don't hurt her."

"Don't be mad at me, okay?" The tone of Webber's voice almost convinced Harry. He sounded so upset, almost like a child pleading to be forgiven. "I know it's all wrong. I didn't mean for this to happen. It's just…Tracy – she's trying to come between us."

"You're insane," Andy responded, his eyes round in shook.

"She's garbage!" Webber said, his outburst loud and fervent. "They all are. We can push them; we can make them do whatever we want!"

"Are you really this stupid?" Andy asked incredulously. Harry felt his respect for the other man rise as he listened to his words, despite his imperius ability. "You learn you've got a twin, you call him up, you go out for a drink. You don't start killing people!"

"I've wanted to tell you for so long, bro," Webber replied. "But he didn't let me. He said I had to wait until the time—"

"Who?" Andy interrupted.

"The man with the yellow eyes," Webber answered in an obvious tone.

"What are you talking about?"

"He came to me, in my dream. He said I was special. He told me he's got big plans for me. Wait till you see what's in store, Andy, for both of us. See, he's the one who told me I got a brother. A twin." Dean had decided he'd had enough and began to aim the gun he'd brought with them to the sniper nest. He lined up his shot down the barrel and began to steady his breathing, just as his father had taught him. Harry settled down lower and kept his wand focused on Webber, spells flowing through his mind.

"Why did you kill our mother? And why Dr. Jennings?" Andy asked. Harry held his breath but Dean still didn't shoot. Andy needed this, he needed to know why and he couldn't begrudge him that.

"Because they split us up! They ruined our lives, Andy! We could've been together this whole time, instead of alone. I couldn't let 'em do that, I couldn't let 'em get away with that. No." He turned around and Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. Webber was staring right at them. "I see you…Bye, bye." Dean slowly moved the barrel of the rifle until it was resting beneath his chin_. _Harry grabbed the barrel of the gun and tried to pull it away from him but Dean was stronger. However the gun remained away from Dean's face, like something else was helping Harry.

A loud shot filled the silence and Harry stared at his cousin before glancing down at the dam. Andy was holding a gun out in front of him, staring at the man he'd just shot in the back. Webber was face down on the ground, his blood slowly seeping out. Harry let go of the weapon, his fingers contracting painfully. He caught Dean's eye who nodded.

~*~*~

Dawn came bright and early. Dean had called in the paramedics who'd quickly descended on the crime scene with the police like a plague of locusts. It made the brothers and Harry nervous but Andy made sure they were sufficiently protected. EMTs were checking over Sam as Andy talked with police about what happened, being sure to not look as they wheeled the body away.

"He shot himself. And you all saw it happen," he intoned emotionlessly. The three officers nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. We did." Andy smiled wanly before walking away.

"Look at him. He's getting better at it," Sam said. They watched as Andy stopped and smiled at Tracy sitting in an ambulance. But she merely turned away from him, pulling the blanket more tightly around herself. Andy felt his resolve crumble as he continued toward them.

"She won't even look at me," he said despondently.

"Yeah, she's pretty shaken up," Sam agreed.

"No, it's – this is different. I never used my mind thing on her before…before last night. She's scared of me now." Harry glanced toward the other girl. He could see the fear in her eyes but he thought more than anything she was disappointed.

"Give her some time," the younger boy said. "I think she'll come around, so long as you don't do it again." Andy shook his head hurriedly, his eyes hopeful.

"Andy, I hate to do this but… we have to get out of here." He scoffed knowingly. Sam pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to the other man. "Here, I wrote down my cell. You don't have to be alone in this, all right? If anything comes up, you call me up."

"Oh, uh," Harry cleared his throat nervously. "Your mum's not dead. She was pretty badly burned but she's alive. We didn't want to tell you in case it got out she was still alive and Webber, er Ansem went after her again."

"Thanks," Andy said slightly and Harry turned to walk away with his cousins. "What am I supposed to do now?" They turned to face him.

"You be good, Andy," Dean replied. "Or we'll be back." The older man stared at him stoically before walking away again. In the end, Sam was the one comforting him while Dean was the one making sure he stayed in line.

"Looks like I was right," Sam said as they were walking back to the car. Harry looked up.

"Bout what?" Dean asked.

"Andy," he replied simply. "He's a killer, after all."

"No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life, he saved _my _life."

"Bottom line, last night, he wasted somebody."

"Yeah," Dean conceded before continuing. "But he's not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho. He was pushed into that."

"Webber was pushed, too, in his own way," Sam replied turning to face his brother. "Max Miller was pushed. Hell, _I_ was pushed by Jessica's death."

"What's your point Sam?"

"Right circumstances, everyone's capable of murder. Everyone. Maybe that's what the demon's doing – pushing us, finding ways to break us."

"I don't believe you," Harry said chimed in. Both brothers turned to look at him. "Not everyone is capable of it, not everyone has a breaking point."

"Oh really?" scoffed Sam.

"I don't," Harry replied. "I've never killed anything before that Rakshasa and even then, nothing human. You know that wizard that killed my parents, the one who tortured me and hundreds others, the one who murdered his way through two decades and threw our country into war…I couldn't kill him, instead I gave him the opportunity for redemption." Harry paused as his mind wandered back to the end of his second year, sitting in the hospital wing, terrified the sorting hat had made the wrong decision putting him in Gryffindor. "My headmaster told me once that it was our choices, far more than our abilities, that show what we truly are. And I think he's right." Harry watched as his cousin mulled over his words carefully in his head.

"Sam, we don't know what the demon wants, okay? Quit worrying about it," Dean added, thankful that Harry had at least got Sam to consider that not everyone could murder people, though why Harry had the opportunity to murder his parents' killer was far more worrisome.

"You know," Sam began slowly. "I heard you before, Dean. When Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am."

"That was mind control!" Dean burst out. "It's like being Roofied, man, that doesn't count."

"What?" Sam asked incredulously.

"No," Dean said emphatically shaking his head. Harry smiled slightly glad Dean was able to break the moment with a little humor. "I'm calling a do-over."

"What are you, seven?"

"Doesn't matter. We've just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch, and kill it." He reached into his pocket pulling out his shrilly ringing phone as he climbed into the car.

"Yeah I guess," Sam said softly.

"Hello?...Ellen? What's going on?...Yeah, we'll be right there."

**~*~*~**

The Roadhouse was empty when they'd gotten there. Ellen had served them both of a glass of beer and slid a cup of soda to Harry. Jo was cleaning around the place when her mother addressed her.

"Jo? Go pull up another case of beer."

"Mom—" She'd been making her way over to the family, hoping to talk to them about their hunt.

"Now. Please." Ellen's tone broached no room for argument and the blond girl stormed off. Ellen moved down the bar until she was directly in front of them. "So, you wanna tell me about this last hunt of yours?" Her eyes slid from one boy to the next landing on Harry last who held her gaze steadily. He'd been stared down his whole life and he didn't back down easily.

"No, not really," Dean said, bringing her attention back to him. "No offense, just…it's kind of a family thing."

"Not anymore." Reaching under the table, she slapped a stack of papers down in front of them on the bar. "I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his six-month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?"

"Yeah, we think so," Sam replied. Ellen zeroed in on him as Dean tried to break in.

"Sam," he said warningly.

"Why?" she asked.

"None of your business," Dean replied bitingly. Harry nervously watched them as they argued. Ellen glared at the older man and the teenager knew he was in for a tongue lashing.

"You mind your tone with me, boy. This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad is coming, and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best, all we've got is us, together. No secrets or half-truths here." Dean looked down and away, sufficiently chastised. Ellen glanced towards Harry, raising a blond brow.

"I don't know much," Harry responded honestly. "They don't exactly tell me and I don't exactly ask." His green eyes flickered to Sam.

"There are people out there, like Andy Gallagher…like me," the youngest Winchester said slowly, hesitantly. "And um…we all have some kind of ability."

"Ability?" She asked, confused.

"Yeah," he replied. "A psychic ability. Me – I have um…I have visions…premonitions. I don't know, it's different for everybody. The demon said he had plans for people like us." Dean was glaring at Ellen and shaking his head angrily. He didn't like people knowing about Sam's ability or hell, even Harry's but there was nothing he could do about it.

"What kind of plans?"

"We don't really know for sure," Sam said.

"These people out there, these psychics – are they dangerous?" Ellen asked, her mind already considering the problems and going through contingency plans.

"No," Dean said breaking into their conversation. "Not all of them." He looked significantly at his brother.

"But some are. Some are very dangerous," Sam cut it.

"Consider them like wizards," Harry added. "Some choose to use their powers to hurt people, others to save people. It all depends." Ellen nodded.

"Okay, how many of 'em are we lookin' at?"

"We've been able to track a clear pattern so far," Dean responded. Now that he'd entered the conversation he was damn well going to participate. "They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six-month birthday."

"That's not true," Sam contradicted. Harry and Dean turned towards him. As far as they knew it was.

"What?"

"Webber, or Ansem Weems, or whatever his name is – I looked at his files, and there was no house fire. He's nothing out of the ordinary," he explained. Jo set the case of beer on the countertop behind them.

"Which breaks pattern," Ellen concluded. "So, if there's any others like him, there'll be nothing in the system. No way to track 'em all down."

"And so, who knows how many of 'em are really out there?" Dean added. The hopelessness of the situation began to settle on them. At least Harry only had to locate a few horcruxes, trying to find all these kids was going to be impossible.

"Jo, honey?"

"Yeah?"

"You better break out the whiskey instead."

**~*~*~**

Once the bar began to filter out for the night, Sam dragged his brother and his cousin to a back table. He sat them down and stared hard at the younger boy as he took the seat in front of him. Harry sighed nervously as he glanced at Dean who leaned back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest. Sam opened his mouth but Harry held up his hand before slipping his wand out. He pointed it at the few people still left in the bar and muttered, "Muffliato!"

The brothers stared at him; Harry had never used his magic so blatantly on anyone in front of them before. "So we're not overheard." Sam nodded and allowed silence to settle once again.

"You get em too." Sam stated evenly, trying not to sound accusing but he didn't quite make it. "Visions." Harry swallowed and looked down at the table.

"It's not that eas—" Harry began but Sam cut him off abruptly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" The older man asked harshly, his eyes flashing with anger. "Not Dean but _me_! God, didn't you think I would want to know?! I get the other stuff, why you kept it from us but this?" Sam was glaring at Harry now, no longer even attempting to stifle his anger and disappointment. However, this only served the purpose of flaring up Harry's stubbornness. The brunette hated being confronted, especially when he didn't think he'd done anything wrong.

"Oh and why didn't you tell your girlfriend when you started getting them?" As soon as the words were out of Harry's mouth, he knew he'd gone too far. Sam stared at his younger cousin in shock, his eyes huge while Dean glared at Harry who for his part immediately tried to apologize. "I'm sorry Sam. That, that wasn't right. I sho—"

"You're damn right you shouldn't have!" Dean said bitingly standing to loom over his cousin. Harry felt himself pulling back, trying to hide into the chair. He knew Dean would never hurt him but Merlin, he could be scary and years of conditioning were hard to erase. Sam put his hand on his brother's arm.

"Dean." The younger Winchester pulled him back into his seat seeing how scared Harry was becoming due to the older man's physical intimidation.

"I'm sorry Sam," Harry said weakly. "That was out of line. I…" He ran his hand through his hair nervously. "I just didn't know where they were coming from and I didn't know why I was getting them and I didn't want to…"

"Want to what?" Sam asked gently.

"Be a burden," Harry muttered so softly the brothers almost missed it. Sam caught his brother's eye and silently both of them agreed this had to stop, they had to figure out why Harry was so worried about being left behind.

"Harry, you're not a burden," Dean said leaning on the table to look his younger cousin in the eye. "A pain in the ass occasionally but not a burden."

"We're just worried," Sam added. "I mean, maybe…maybe a wizard didn't kill your family." There he'd said it; he'd said what had been eating at him ever since he realized his younger cousin had visions. Sam hoped to God he was wrong but everything was pointing to him being right.

"No," Harry said shaking his head violently. "No, it's not true. Voldemort killed my parents, no one else."

"Look Harry," Sam began gently. "You're immune to Andy's powers, like me. Your parents died in a house fire, like mine. You get visions, like me. It's all adding up."

"I told you," Harry said frustrated. "It wasn't a house fire, that's just what the ministry told the muggles to cover up the magic. I can explain everything." Sam and Dean stared at him, fully waiting and expecting to hear this explanation. Harry sighed and slumped into his seat already tired and wanting this conversation to be over. "First of all, my parents were attacked and killed on my fifteenth month birthday, not my sixth. First break in the pattern. Second, there was no actual fire. The force of the spell blew away part of my house and to explain it away, the ministry said there was an explosion. Thirdly…" Harry stalled here before sighing heavily.

"Thirdly, I already got visions and they had nothing to do with the demon. In fact, I know exactly how and why I got my visions from before. The visions I'm getting now though, I'm pretty sure are simply edited versions of yours." He let his words sink in before trying to explain. "I only get them when you get them and from what I can tell, it's only bits and pieces from your longer visions. My original visions were all connected to Voldemort, what he was seeing, what he was feeling, what he wanted me to see. But after he died, they stopped. Until I met you…I think…I think my mind was connected to his for so long, was opened to another's for sixteen years that it connected with the closest psychic who also happened to be blood related. You."

Harry stopped talking and let Sam and Dean consider what he'd just said. He'd just revealed his connection to his worst enemy, something only few people back home even knew about as well as those dreaded visions he'd receive. He hoped they'd still trust him after this.

"How do you explain your immunity to Andy?" Sam asked, not commenting on what Harry had said. He needed to understand everything before he could decide how he felt about it.

"You know that spell that Bella used on me, back in November?" Harry asked suddenly. Dean's hazel eyes hardened into ice and he growled. Harry felt the corners of his lips twitch. "I'll take that as a yes. Anyway that's one of three curses we call the Unforgivables. To use them is a one-way ticket to Azkaban, err, sorry our wizarding prison. Not a pleasant place, mind you. Anyway, there's one called the Imperius Curse. It gives the castor complete control over their victim."

"Like Andy," Dean said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Except Andy's a good guy; he wouldn't abuse it. But others…during the war, the Imperius was used either to control the government or for Death Eater's sick amusement. They'd make people kill themselves, their loved ones, torture their families and children. They'd make them do anything to humiliate and degrade their victims before killing them. It's a horrible curse, having no control. Andy shouldn't use it on people."

"But how were you able to resist?" Sam persisted. He could see how upset Harry was getting about the use of the curse.

"In my fourth year at school, we were shown the curses and then placed under the Imperius."

"A teacher cursed you?" Dean asked incredulously and slightly angry. "What the hell kind of school you go to?"

"Hogwarts was…one of a kind," Harry responded. "Anyway, unlike the other two, the Imperius can be blocked, or at least people can be trained to block it. Those with an exceptional force of will and character can overcome the curse. When Moody put it on me when I was younger, I was supposed to jump onto the table. But as I didn't really understand why I was doing this and seeing as I didn't really want to do this, I ended up running into it. After further castings, I was able to throw it off completely."

"So," Dean interrupted. "You're saying I don't have 'an exceptional force of will and character' but Sam does?"

"No," Harry said quickly. "I don't know how the curse works on muggles or how Andy's ability works. But when he tried it on me, it was like before and I simply threw him off. Don't worry, Dean. I know you have an exceedingly forceful character and tremendous willpower."

Dean raised an eyebrow trying to decide if that was a compliment or not. Sam's lips twitched and he ducked his head into his drink before snorting unable to contain his laughter. Dean turned towards his younger brother and smacked him hard across the back of his head. Sam just continued to smile but scooted his chair slightly away from Dean. Harry laughed at his cousins' antics. It felt good to joke with his cousins and get everything off his chest.

"So we good?" Harry asked uncertainly. Sam and Dean both smiled at him before taking drinks from their beers.

"Yeah, we're good."


	24. Part VII: Chapter 23

******Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Okay, here's the first chapter of the new part. First of all, let me just say this. This part is entirely of my making and is my baby, so please be gentle. Next, thanks to everyone for being so patient. The end of my college career was awesome, though my graduation was a bit cold - it was outside and it was 50*F. I should be able to update regularly now but if not I'll let you know in advance. Thanks to all my awesome reviewers, I haven't had a chance to reply to them but I will get to them, scout's honor! Thank you to Kirallie, my amazing beta - I'm working on the next part, promise chica! Oh, I also just noticed that my dividers (*~*~*) all went away. I don't know why. If it annoys people, them not being there, I'll try to figure out a way to divide stuff again. Otherwise, I'm going to leave it as is.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**Do You Believe In Magic?**

_Do you feel like a man, when you push her around?_

_Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?_

_Well, I'll tell you my friend, one day this world's going to end_

_As your lies crumble down, a new life she has found._

"_Facedown" Red Jumpsuit Apparatus_

The motel room was quiet, each of its occupants immersed in their own tasks. Sam was surfing the web for possible cases, Harry was methodically cleaning the weapons while Dean was channel surfing and periodically glancing at his cousin to ensure he wasn't missing any spots. Earlier that morning, oldest and youngest cousin had gone for a run, went through some drills and cooled down with target practice. Harry had wanted to collapse once they'd reached the motel where they were staying but Dean had insisted he clean and put away the weapons. While both brothers knew Harry could defend himself with magic, they still wanted him to learn to defend himself in case he ever lost his wand.

"You got anything yet?" Dean asked clearly bored after finding nothing worthwhile on the television. Sam clicked on some buttons, slowly finishing up what he was reading.

"Maybe," came the response. Dean stared at his brother in anticipation.

"Well?" Sam looked away from his screen, his face a mask of confusion.

"Warren, Connecticut," he began. "Three men were found in their homes; ME's ruled it heart attack in all three." He paused and silence settled around the room as Dean waited for his brother to continue. Once it appeared that Sam was lost in thought again, he decided his younger brother needed some prompting.

"But…?" Dean asked as he slid into the chair across from his brother turning the computer towards himself.

"Well, for one thing all the men were active and healthy. The doc can't find any reason for why their hearts would stop working." Sam leaned forward indicating he was getting to what was really bothering him. "And it appears as though their bodies all shut down, at the exact same time."

"What time?" Harry asked. Sam shook his head in frustration.

"No," he said. "They didn't die at the same time. Their body's organs completely shut down all together. Not one right after another but all together."

"So?" Dean asked, catching a glance at his younger cousin who'd laid the gun he was cleaning aside in favor of listening in. Dean raised an eyebrow and Harry resumed his task after an obvious eyeroll.

"Dean, bodies don't just shut down all at once! Cells can survive for a little bit without oxygen but from the ME's notes, it looks like something just flipped the OFF switch. Then there's the witnesses."

"There were witnesses?" Honestly, trying to get information from Sam before he'd figured everything out himself was like pulling teeth.

"The ones who found them," Sam pulled the computer back towards him, his gaze focused again. Dean scowled. "They all give variations of the same thing."

"Which is?" Dean asked clearly frustrated.

"That they all looked like they were scared to death." There was a beat of silence before Dean snorted.

"_Scared to death_, really? C'mon Sammy you're slipping."

"Where does it say that?" Harry asked. How he got from the bed to the desk without them noticing was beyond them. He grabbed the laptop before either of them could respond. The brothers noticed the younger boy was clearly worried; he was biting his lower lip and his green eyes were darting across the screen frantically. "Shit."

"Care to share with the class?" Dean asked sardonically, tired of being out of the loop. Harry surveyed them closely, internally debating with himself. After a moment he slumped into the third chair sighing.

"It's a wizard," he said softly. The brothers both leaned back in their seats taking in deep breaths.

"You sure?" Sam asked.

"Pretty damn. The symptoms fit."

"The bitch?" growled Dean his eyes lighting in anger.

"Doubt it. Bella tends to play with her food before killing it. But these guys show no signs of that."

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked again unsatisfied with Harry's response as the younger boy hoped he'd be.

"Remember the Unforgivables I told you about?"

"Yeah," Dean responded. "Well you told us about two, the torture one and the control one."

"The last one's the Killing Curse, Avada Kedevra," Harry responded. "Just like the cruciatus, there's no defense; you get hit and you're dead. That's what this wizard is using to kill people."

"Wait," Dean said holding up his hand. "You're saying this curse is unstoppable?"

"Well," Harry drew it out just enough that they knew there was something he wasn't telling them. "Yeah. This curse can kill anything it comes in contact with."

"Anything?" Sam asked an odd gleam in his eye. Harry observed him curiously.

"That I know of. I haven't really looked into who the curse has been used against," he responded.

"So it could be, theoretically, used against, say, a demon?"

"No!" Harry said harshly glaring at his cousin for even bringing it up. How dare he ask him to do something like that! Granted Sam didn't understand, didn't know what that curse did, what it was capable of but still. He couldn't even use the curse to kill Voldemort, the man who killed his parents, who destroyed his life and they want him to use it _now_. No! He couldn't, he wouldn't!

"No, it can't be used," Dean started. "Or—"

"No, I won't do it, even if it could be done!" The younger boy pushed back from the table and stomped over to the weapons left on the bed. Sam slowly walked over to the bed and sat down beside his cousin.

"I'm sorry I asked, I just figured—"

"I know why you asked," Harry bit out. "We've been looking for the damn gun since Nebraska and you figured we might not need it if I had this spell. I get it!" Dean shared a look with his brother; something else was going on, something Harry wasn't telling them.

"Then just tell us how it works," Dean added. "You won't have to do it; we'll take care of it." Harry threw the rag onto the bed, knowing better than to throw the gun. Both brothers may accept that he's upset but he figured they drew the line at throwing weapons around.

"It won't work. One, you're not wizards; two, you have to be pretty sick to use these spells – righteous anger won't get you far and three…" He cut himself off and looked down. They couldn't know, he couldn't tell them what he'd done, what had happened to him.

"And three what?" Sam asked gently.

"The Unforgivables are pretty dark magic. They require you to sacrifice something in order to power them; in the case of the killing curse, a life for a life, or a part of one anyway. The magic degrades a bit of your soul. It twists and changes you into something truly evil. I've seen what becomes of people who use this spell." An image of the screaming disfigured baby that was Voldemort's soul popped into Harry's head. "I couldn't let that happen to you."

Sam nodded. "Alright then, we won't use the spell. I'm sorry for asking."

"It's okay, you didn't know." Sam shared a look with his brother who nodded. There was still so much they didn't know but they intended to find out everything. Harry was slowly letting them into his life but it was taking time, time they weren't sure they had. Every day for a hunter could be his last and they wanted to make up for the lost years that Harry had been kept from them, understand who he was but he wasn't making it easy for them. It felt like every detail about his past from to be ripped from him, that he was afraid to give it up willingly. Sam and Dean both hoped eventually Harry would be comfortable enough to talk with them without reservation.

The next day saw the boys driving down the main street of a very quaint town. The shops were all mom-and-pop places that had been owned by the same family for years. People greeted each other on the street and sidewalks which were free of clutter and trash. Dean bet nothing tragic had hit this town since 1929 and they might have survived the Great Depression on small town charm alone.

Dean slid the Impala into an empty parking space outside a diner that looked promising. Harry sighed before getting out of the car, ducking his head quickly making sure his fringe covered his scar. Being on a case dealing with wizards was putting him on edge. Although Voldemort was dead and most of the Death Eaters locked up in Azkaban, it didn't mean there weren't still people out there that wanted him dead or captured for their own purposes. Mostly, they were ministry officials that wanted to use him as a poster child for sacrifice for one's country and following the government. It was bad enough the American muggle government had caught wind of him; he didn't need the wizarding community to as well, American or not.

_*Flashback*_

"_Hello Harry," the blond woman said as she entered the room. The young boy had been sitting in the small interview room for the better part of an hour, plied with several sodas, a couple of candy bars and a turkey sandwich. The cops who'd brought him the food had all smiled wanly at him before edging out of the room. However, this woman was different. She was dressed smartly in a dark blue pant-suit and smiled genuinely as she took a seat across from him. "Sorry to keep you waiting. How are you?" _

_Harry bit his lip and glanced down. It was the way she said it, as though that one question meant many different things. "Fine." He looked up in time to see her nod her head grimly, definitely not believing him. _

"_Alright," she said gently not wanting to pry. "Did you get enough to eat?" _

_Harry nodded vigorously, trying harder to get her to believe that everything truly was fine. "Yeah, feel like I've been stuffed like a Christmas goose!" She smiled gently, the corners of her eyes crinkling slightly. _

"_That's good." She folded her hands in front of her and leaned forward slightly. "My name is Diana Ballard; I'm a detective here in Baltimore. Do you know why you're here?" Harry swallowed nervously as he contemplated his answer._

"_Not really," he admitted after a bit. "Where are my cousins?" _

"_We're talking to them somewhere else," Diana began. "But right now, we need to talk to you. Do you know what your cousins were doing here?" _

_Harry shrugged noncommittally. "They don't really tell me anything." _

"_I see." Harry saw the woman visibly pause; she took a breath and released it slowly as though she didn't want to ask this next part. "Harry, when did you come to live with your cousins?"_

"_A couple months ago," Harry said slowly. "I found out about my uncle on my birthday in July and then spent loads of time searching for him. Afterwards, I came here to talk to him and he said I could travel with him and his boys."_

"_How exactly did you find him?" _

"_Don't know exactly. I wasn't doing too well so my friend, well she was the one who actually found him. And I never asked for details." _

"_Uh huh, I see." Her understanding was beginning to grate on Harry's nerves. He knew her questioning was leading somewhere. She was being way too nice, approaching him as though he was a scared animal. "Have your cousins ever done anything to scare you?" _

"_I don't understand," the younger boy stated slowly. "My cousins wouldn't hurt me!"_

"_I didn't ask if they hurt you, Harry," the woman replied gently, her eyes once again crinkly, though this time out of concern. "Why would you say that? You know you can talk freely in here, nobody can get to you, I promise."_

_Harry felt his anger bubble up in his chest. "Look lady, my cousins haven't done anything wrong! I'm not scared of them and they've never done anything that would scare me! Why can't I talk to them?" Standing abruptly, Harry heard his chair slam into the ground behind him. The detective came around the table quickly holding up her hands placating. _

"_Calm down, Harry," she said advancing slowly. Harry glared at her harshly. "I'm just trying to help you and get to the bottom of this." _

"_I don't need your help!" He responded through clenched teeth. "I need to see my cousins. Where are they?"_

"_I can't take you to them, not right now," Diana said continuing to walk towards him."But if you calm down and answer my questions, I'll see what I can do." Harry glared at her but refused to speak. He picked up his chair, righted it and slammed his body into it. Crossing his arms over his chest, he focused his gaze on a spot on the wall and didn't acknowledge her or anyone else that came into the room. _

_*End Flashback*_

From what he was able to gather from his cousins afterwards, the Baltimore police were under the mistaken impression that they had kidnapped him and instead of being a scared victim, Harry had Stockholm Syndrome which was the reason for his loyalty to them. It was utterly ridiculous but unfortunately created more problems. The American authorities already wanted Sam and Dean for several reasons, murder being most of all but now they had the added incentive to catch them due to Harry's victim status.

The teenager tried to shake himself of the depressing thoughts as they entered the diner. It was old fashioned, with several booths lined up against the windows and a countertop that separated the kitchen from the patrons. It was pretty full so nobody paid them any attention though Harry kept himself hidden behind Sam's larger frame.

Sliding into the booth, Harry hunkered down in his seat, holding the menu up in front of his face as he read and decided what he wanted to eat. The brothers stared at him curiously before letting it go and smiling at the waitress as she came over with the coffee pot. Each was lost in their own thoughts about the case as they ordered and waited for their food to arrive. The voices of the patrons flowed over them and it wasn't until they all heard Harry's name that they started listening more closely.

"…Harry Potter in the new article of Witch Weekly?" a young girl's voice asked. She couldn't be older than fourteen, perhaps younger. "He's totally hot!" Sam and Dean both smirked at their cousin who blushed bright red and bent his head down more in an effort to completely blend in with the tabletop.

"Yeah," responded another girl. "But those pictures are from a year ago. I heard nobody's seen him in months. His own ministry doesn't know where he is!"

"Well, he is a really private person," a third voice added reasonably. "Especially after last June."

"Yeah, poor boy," the original voice injected. "Totally tragic. I wonder if the rumors are true."

"What rumors?" Both Sam and Dean leaned towards the girls in the booth behind them while Harry glared at them subtly though neither brother acknowledged him. At first they didn't think it was the same Harry Potter but when the girls started talking about the ministry and a mention of witches, well, it was pretty damn likely it was the same person as their cousin. Though they couldn't figure out why Harry would be published in any magazines or talked about by preteen girls.

"Well," the girl's voice was lowered as though she was telling them a secret. "According to my cousin whose boyfriend was in Ravenclaw during the last battle, he actually died!" The brothers turned to look at their cousin who was determinedly keeping his head down and not making eye contact with either.

"Really?"

"Yeah, they even tortured him to prove he was actually dead and he didn't scream or anything!" The girl's voice took on the quality of one who was sharing a particularly juicy piece of gossip rather than the upsetting details of someone's life.

"Well, I don't believe it," the second girl said smugly. "There are many things magic can do; coming back from the dead isn't one of them. Maybe he just has a high pain tolerance."

"Or maybe he's just Harry Potter and the laws of magic just don't apply to him," the third girl commented before her two friends could get into an argument. Giggling could be heard.

"Merlin," the original girl said dreamily once they had calmed down, the earlier dispute forgotten. "Can you imagine meeting him? He's so brave and smart and caring and…" Harry blushed harder as he listened to the girls continue to talk about him as though he was a bloody slab of meat, an apparently "hot and dreamy" slab of meat. They shifted their conversation to other girly teenage topics before leaving altogether. Harry was also able to find out why they were here. While they were all from Hartford and witches, one of the girls was a muggleborn and she had family that lived here. They also weren't aware of the murders or hadn't connected them to a wizard.

After the girls had left, Sam and Dean sat back, allowing all the information they'd learned to sink in. Harry had possibly died and at the very least been involved in a war and tortured. He was also pretty well known in the wizarding world, though neither brother could figure out from the girl's conversation how. Harry had sat listening to the girls talk about his life with a blank look on his face, barely touching his meal.

"So," Sam said slowly, glancing sideways at the younger boy.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry replied shortly, suddenly attacking his burger in order to keep the brothers from interrogating him.

"Well, was any of it true?" Dean asked, needing to know what happened to his cousin. He seen his cousin get tortured by that bitch back in November but hearing that it wasn't the first time it'd happened made it a lot worse. "Please tell me those girls were just being gossipy bitches."

"Those girls were just being gossipy bitches," Harry said flatly, knowing Dean would understand from his answer that what they'd said was true. Sam stared at the top of his cousin's black head before glancing up at his brother. Dean was staring straight ahead, his piercing green gaze filled with anger and pain knowing he hadn't been around to help their cousin. Sam knew his brother hated not being able to take care of his family. Plus Harry was shutting them out; he wasn't telling them what had happened to him or who had hurt him. "Look can we just drop it?"

Sam expected his brother to protest but Dean nodded, glancing down. Harry was the only one that was actually eating his food, even Dean had apparently lost his appetite, and the only reason Harry was eating was to ensure that he couldn't answer Sam and Dean's question. Fifteen minutes later, the three of them left the restaurant under a somber mood.


	25. Part VII: Chapter 24

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Remember how I said updates would be regular unless life got in the way...sorry I couldn't update yesterday but hopefully this will make people happy for the short delay. I want to thank everyone who has read and/or reviewed the last chapter. So far the reviews have been positive and it doesn't appear that Sam and Dean are incrediably out of charater or anything. I was a bit worried this part would stick out like a sore thumb within the story. Thanks again to Kirallie for betaing for me. Also I've sprinkled some HP references throughout this part so have fun finding them! Thank you goes out to Spiked Reyndrop for tips on the dividers; it's really not that big of a deal but I like them. And before anyone asks, I know I'm evil but I couldn't resist!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

The three boys checked into the Cokeworth Motel and began getting ready for the case. The brothers staked out their beds and Harry immediately started making his bed on the floor. Instead of trying to continuously get a rollaway bed for every room they stayed in, Harry began using the area between the beds for his own sleeping area. At first the brothers protested, not comfortable with their cousin constantly sleeping on dirty hard motel floors all the time. Harry assured them he was quite comfortable and it was only after Dean took the floor one night that he believed him. Harry had Hermione send him a sleeping bag bought at a wizarding camping shop in Diagon Alley. While most wizards preferred fully furnished tents, some at least attempted to rough it like a muggle, or at least appear to do so. Harry's own sleeping bag was as comfortable as any bed as well as temperature adjustable. After a few hardy scourgify charms, Harry didn't mind sleeping on the floor.

Sam immediately set up the laptop and started pulling up all the information he'd found so far as Harry finished cleaning the floor. "Alright," he said sitting back in his chair. "Our first victim was Miles Anderson, age forty-seven. He died last Tuesday; sister came over for a dinner and found him sitting on the couch, dead. A couple days later, Marc Jacobs was found by his friend who went to pick him up for work. Said he was still in his pajamas sitting at the table. He was thirty two. Our third victim was found two days ago. Evan Jewel, twenty four, was found by his housekeeper, still in his workout clothes."

"Anything connecting the victims?" Dean asked from his spot on his bed.

"Nope, all different ages, different jobs, different lives. Anderson had one son, widowed for twelve years. Worked as an accountant for a firm called Masters and Sons. Jacobs was married with two daughters, ages four and seven. He was a carpenter. And Jewel had a girlfriend but no children and no job – trust fund baby." Sam looked up at the other two in the room. "There is nothing that ties them together."

"So how's this wizard pickin' em?" Dean asked frustrated. He looked towards his cousin who shook his head.

"I haven't the foggiest," Harry replied. "I just know how he's doing it, I don't know why."

"We got to worry about wizarding police on top of normal police?" Sam asked. Harry snorted as he dug around in his bag for some books.

"Hardly. The American Magical Government is a joke. For as big as this country is, the government is rather small and they just don't have the manpower. There aren't that many wizards in the world, there really aren't. Most are centered in Europe with a few groups scattering to other continents. American wizards are an extremely small percentage of the total population and they're spread over one of the largest areas. Why do you think they let hunters take care of so much? No way would the British ministry allow hunters to know as much as they do. The likelihood of the AMG getting wind of this quickly is slim to none. They'll probably learn about this in another couple of weeks, seeing as the closest government center is in Boston. We've got nothing to worry about." Sam nodded before returning to his screen.

"Alright, so we go talk to the victims' families," Dean said standing. "Maybe we'll find something that helps us find out who this guy is and who his next target may be." Sam slammed his laptop shut and began to gather some weapons while Harry bit his lip nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. "What?"

"I think you two should talk to the families while I check out the morgue," Harry said, straightening to look Dean in the eye.

"No," the older man responded turning towards the door.

"Dean," Harry started. "I just have to check to make sure they died how I think they did. Neither of you will be able to check."

"So we'll do it after we talk to the families," Dean responded.

"We don't have time for that," Harry replied evenly. This wasn't something he was going to back down from. He didn't want his cousins anywhere near this case but he knew they wouldn't let him do it completely on his own. "We don't know when this guy will strike again; we need as much information as quickly as possible."

"Fine Sam can go with you." Dean turned towards the door again but Harry stopped him.

"No, he can't," the younger boy said. "There's one morgue and three families. It'd be faster for me to go alone and you two to go talk to the families. Plus, I can't go with you because no one is going to talk to a kid pretending to be an FBI agent, but they will talk to a college student writing a paper."

Sam sighed. Harry obviously wanted to do this by himself and he seemed to have found arguments to every one of Dean's complaints. He really didn't want this to turn into a shouting match between the two which Sam knew was about to happen any moment if the ticking in Dean's jaw was any indication. "Dean, I'm sure he'll be fine."

"What? You actually think this is a good idea."

Sam swallowed and tried to hide the lie on his tongue. "Well, yeah I do." Dean snorted and Sam knew neither one believed him. "Look, he's right. We don't have time, he can't get into the houses as easily as us and he can take care of himself."The older man crossed his arms over his chest and stared his little brother down before shifting his gaze to his cousin.

"Fine," he said turning once again to the door, this time succeeding in opening it. "But first you're getting a cell phone."

**0~*~*~0**

After a quick stop at a store to pick up a cell phone for Harry and then twenty minutes of Dean lecturing the younger boy on how to use it and when to use it and if he even thought about turning it off, Dean would lock him in the Impala until hell froze over or until Dean felt comfortable letting him out, whichever came first. With new phone in hand, Harry was dropped off at the morgue and the brothers waited until he was inside before driving away. Dean didn't like leaving his cousin somewhere they couldn't see him or keep an eye on him but he knew if he kept coddling him, Harry was going to do something stupid to get away, like go to college. As Sam watched his cousin enter the building, he understood Dean's apprehension. It was hard letting younger siblings, because that's what Harry was whether he liked it or not, go and live their own lives. Knowing Harry would be fine and believing it are two entirely different things. Silently the car drove to their first destination.

Miles Anderson was a well-liked man as evidenced by the number of flowers that adorned the hallway and the number of casseroles that filled the fridge. His son, Mitchell, opened the door tiredly as though he'd had enough well-wishers for one day. After showing him their badges, Sam and Dean stepped into the house and were led to the living room. It was felt small, cramped with people and flowers. There were four others already there, two women and two men. One of them stepped forward extending her hand once Mitch introduced them.

"I'm Jamie Cooper," she said introducing herself. "Miles' sister. I'm the one that found him." Sam and Dean smiled in sympathy as tears welled up in her eyes but she brushed them aside hastily. "We already talked to the police…"

"There were several murders similar to the ones in town in Hartford last month and we're making sure they're not related," Sam said gently before steering her towards the couch and sitting down.

"Oh," she replied her face scrunching up in confusion. "The police said it was a heart attack."

"We believe our suspect makes it look that way to cover his tracks," Dean said confidently. "Was there anyone that may want to hurt your brother?"

"No!" she replied quickly her hands coming up and gesturing wildly in the negative. "No one, everybody loved Miles."

"He was a good man," one of the men chimed in, coming to stand beside Jamie. "Alex Cooper, I'm Jamie's husband. Miles was…he wasn't perfect but after Therese died, he raised Mitch and kept a steady job. He pulled himself back from a very dark place."

"Mitch was…" Sam looked down at the notebook he carried. "Seven, right, when his mother died?"

"Yeah, car accident," Alex responded. Sam nodded while Dean shifted, taking over the conversation.

"Was there anything you can tell us about when you found him?" he asked. Jamie swallowed and took a steadying breath.

"We were coming over for dinner that evening, and I arrived early because, well Miles is great but he can't cook. Anyway, I let myself in, all the lights were on and I heard the television on. I called for him but…but no one answered. I went to turn it off and that's when I found him." Tears began streaming down her face and she turned towards her husband. The brothers waited to see if she would give them any more. The older woman pulled back and seemed to steady herself. "He was just sitting there."

"Not slumped over or anything?"

"Nope, he looked like he was watching TV, liked he'd just seen a particularly shocking scene and…and it scared him." They glanced at each other before continuing.

"Did your brother have any history of heart problems?"

"No, Miles was obsessive about his health. He was always getting checked out. Our father died of a heart attack when he was fifty." There was a slight pause as the brothers decided where to go from there. Harry had given them pointers on how to determine if the family was a wizarding one. Dean cleared his throat.

"Where did your brother go to school?" he asked suddenly. Jamie looked towards him, a confused expression on her face.

"Uhh, we both went to Warren High, why?"

"We're just covering all the bases, ma'am," Dean responded. That was a bust, no obscure boarding school or even hesitation. Crap. Sam sighed before smiling and getting up from the couch. He shook hands with the group before heading towards the door with his brother.

As they got into the car, they noticed Mitch packing up boxes in the garage and shrugged before moving towards him. The teenager looked up from the box he was packing and eyed them both. "Yeah? You done talking to my aunt?"

"Hm-mmm," Dean said noncommittally. "How you holding up?" The boy went back to shoving crumpled newspaper into the box and shrugged his shoulders without responding. Sam caught his brother's eye.

"You notice anything out of the ordinary before your father died?" Sam asked. Mitch folded up the box and grabbed the masking tape, pulling a long strip out before adhering it to the cardboard.

"Nah, everything was fine," the younger boy said.

"Was there anything off about him?" Mitch glanced up, raising an eyebrow in silent question. "Did he have any friends or associates that were dressed funny or…" Mitch smirked as he shook his head and went back to packing.

"No," he said strongly. "He was the most normal guy around. Look I gotta get these to my dad's storage locker, you mind?"Dean gestured sarcastically as he stepped back out of the teenager's way. Mitch heaved the box up and carried it towards his car as Sam and Dean watched him for a moment then headed to the Impala.

"Alright, who's next?"

**0~*~*~0**

Harry straightened his jacket once he entered the county morgue. He'd watched as the Impala drove away before turning and heading towards the front desk. He wasn't the best liar in the world, ask any of his professors at Hogwarts, so he was hoping the secretary didn't question him too closely. He smiled once she looked up.

"Hi," he said. She was older, her graying brown hair pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck, reminding him strongly of McGonagall. She set aside what she was working on and folded her hands in front of her.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah," he pulled out an ID Dean had made for him that indentified him as Orsino Thruston and gave it to her. "I'm a student over at Eastern and I'm writing a paper for an anatomy class. I heard about the recent string of heart attacks and was hoping I could talk to the ME, to include in my paper. Please, this could save my grade."

The secretary pursed her lips as she listened to his story and surveyed his ID, trying to determine if he was telling the truth. "Well, strictly speaking we're not supposed to let anyone in the back…"

"Please, my scholarship depends on my passing this class," Harry said, hoping she caught his accent and realized he was from out of town and take pity on him. She sighed before handing him back the ID.

"Alright, you'll need to sign in but we're rather slow right now. I'm sure Dr. Culvier wouldn't mind talking to a student." She pushed a clipboard in front of him and he smiled gratefully as he began to fill it out while she went towards the back to call for the ME. Granted none of the information was accurate but at least the first part of his plan was working. It was scary how quickly he'd picked up lying from the Winchesters. In all his years at Hogwarts, he'd never have gotten away with this. However, to be fair, the professors had quickly come to realize not to trust implicitly what came out of his mouth, regardless if he was telling the truth or not.

The secretary led him towards the back and there was a man standing just inside the doorway. He was an older gentleman, older even than the secretary. He was balding though he kept his hair longer. It had at one point probably been blond but it was so faded it was hard to tell. His long beard was thick and full of whites and grays. He had a pair of wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose and he surveyed Harry with keen brown eyes. "Mr. Thruston I presume?"

"Yes sir," Harry said holding out his hand for the other man to shake.

"Let's see what we can do about that paper of yours, hmm?" The doctor said after introducing himself. Harry swallowed nervously. He knew next to nothing about anatomy except what the mediwizard book told him. He really hoped Dr. Culvier didn't ask him any questions. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

What Harry really wanted was time to view the bodies in private so he could see for himself if any spells had been used on them but he highly doubted the doctor was going to leave a college student unsupervised in a room full of dead bodies. Clearing his throat, Harry started, "Well, I read in the paper that the heart attack victims were all…odd? What about your findings made you think that?"

"Well, as you know," Dr. Culvier began while Harry listened attentively. "When a person undergoes a heart attack, the myocardium is often damaged extensively, particularly if that person died. However, the muscles of the victims' hearts were all in perfect order. It appeared as though their body just stopped working, all at the same time. They didn't shut down, as there would be evidence of that, but just stopped working." Harry nodded from where he was pretending to take notes. "Not only that, but their facial features."

Dr. Culvier hurried out of his office where they had previously been talking and made his way over to rows of steel doors that were connected to the wall. He paused just as he was about to open one. "I really shouldn't be showing you this…"

"I won't tell if you don't," Harry replied, smiling conspiratorially. The doctor smiled back and pulled open one of the doors before reaching in and pulling out the slab of metal that a body was lying on. A man, who appeared to be in his early forties, was stretched out on the slab, a white sheet draped over him modestly. He would have looked peaceful if it wasn't for his face which was a mask of sheer terror.

"Rigor mortis begins to set in after about three hours, correct?" Harry nodded, hoping it was a rhetorical question. "But it dissipates after seventy two hours, roughly three days. This man was the first victim. His face shouldn't have formed like that nor should it have remained like that. It's all very curious…"

"And they're all like that?"

"Yup, got no explanation for it," Dr. Culvier said as his eyes darted over the body, trying desperately to put the pieces together. "Not sure if this'll really help your paper."

"Oh!" Harry said surprised; he'd forgotten his "paper" in the doctor's explanations. He knew without a doubt that these men were killed by Avada Kedevra curse, there was no other explanation for it. "I'm sure this'll work just fine. Have you ever come across anything like this before?"

"Nope," Dr. Culvier replied as he pushed the man back into the refrigerated vault. "Though there was a case that had a colleague of mine stumped about twelve years ago now."

"Oh?" Harry asked as they made their way towards the exit.

"Don't really know the particulars of it but he was convinced there was something more going on. Guess we all get cases that we'll never fully understand." The older man smiled down at Harry who opened his mouth to say goodbye but the secretary called for Dr. Culvier through the halls. "Excuse me, I'll be right back to answer your question." Harry clamped his mouth shut and smiled tightly, if the doctor's misunderstanding got him out of the morgue for a few minutes, then Harry wasn't going to correct him.

As soon as the door shut behind the other man, Harry threw back the sheet on the corpse that had repositioned. Taking out his wand, he waved it over the body and muttered, "_Prior Incantato_!" A wisp of green smoke wafted up from the man's chest where Harry's presumed the spell had struck. The smoke twisted around itself before exploding in a flash of green light, eerily similar to what happened when the Killing Curse struck someone. Harry'd have to check his mediwizard book but this man was no doubt killed by a wizard.

Glancing towards the door, Harry quickly performed the spell on the other victims and received the same results. Shoving his wand back into his back pocket, Harry exited the morgue. As he passed the doctor, he thanked the older man for his time before heading outside. He looked at his watch. The brothers wouldn't be done interviewing the families yet to be able to come pick him up but if he left the morgue they would probably kill him. He sighed before settling on a bench to wait.

**0~*~*~0**

"Well, that was a colossal waste of time," Dean grouched as he loosened his tie. "Nobody knew anything about anything!" Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's hyperbole.

"No, we ruled out them having some secret connection to the wizarding community," he said patiently. "Maybe Harry found something at the morgue." He was already pulling out his phone before he finished his sentence. He'd been wanting to call his cousin all afternoon to check in with him but he knew Dean wouldn't let him forget it the next time he took Harry's side.

"Hey," Sam said once the younger man picked up. "All set?"

"_Yeah,_" Harry replied. "_Found anything_?"

"No, you?"

"_Well, I'm ninety nine point nine percent certain these blokes were killed by the Killing Curse._"

"Damnit," Sam muttered, frustrated.

"_What_?"

"We couldn't find anything to connect these guys to the wizarding world or each other. None of them went to any funny schools and their jobs are pretty above board."

"_Unless it's a front_," Harry responded. "_Look come pick me up, I'm beat. We can figure this out tomorrow_." Sam smirked.

"I thought this case was pretty urgent. That's why you didn't want us to come with you," Sam wheedled. He heard his younger cousin groan into the phone.

"_You and I both know I only said that to get Dean off my back_," Harry said. "_C'mon mate, I've been sitting out here for hours!_" Sam laughed before letting him know they'd be there shortly. Dean looked over at him confused. He shook his head, knowing his brother wouldn't be pleased to find out he'd been played.

**0~*~*~0**

The next morning, Sam was back at his computer going through everything, figuring they'd missed something the first time around but nothing was popping up. He'd decided to see if any of the men had police records when his cousin stumbled out of the bathroom. Dean had been banging on the door, demanding that the younger boy hurry up.

Harry's hair was dripping wet and hanging in his face but there wasn't anything he could do as the door was slammed shut. Sam watched as Harry glared at the closed door before turning towards him. Sam shook his head; he was not getting in the middle of them. Harry grabbed some clothes out his bag and quickly began to change, unmindful of Sam who was staring hard at his screen. This aspect of Harry's personality had fit right in with his brother, the ability to change in front of people. Sam was a bit more modest but as Dean had shut the door in his face, there wasn't anywhere else he could go.

Toweling his hair dry, Harry slumped into the chair pulling the last of Sam's fruit cup towards him. After finishing it off, the younger boy turned towards his cousin. "Find anything interesting?" Sam barely heard him; his eyes were darting across the screen. Something had caught his attention. "Hello?"

"I think I know what connected all the victims," he said, turning the screen around to face his cousin. Harry brushed his hands across his jeans before pulling the computer towards him. His green eyes grew bigger as he took in what he was reading. Once he was done, he bit his lip, his mind whirling with possibilities. He pushed his chair back suddenly catching his cousin's attention.

"Harry?" Sam asked.

"I'll be right back, I have my phone if you need me." Before Sam could stop him, Harry disapparated with a loud pop. Dean entered the soon after hearing the sound. He quickly looked around the room, landing on his brother's stunned expression.

"Where's Harry?"


	26. Part VII: Chapter 25

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! I also don't own the songs!

**AN:** Well, last chapter was late, this chapter is early...whatever. I'm leaving today for my grandfather's and I won't have internet for a few days so I thought y'all would appreciate the update now as opposed to Saturday at the earliest. Anywho, thanks for all the awesome reviews, I love reading them and hearing what you guys have to say. Thanks goes out to my beta Kirallie for doing such a wonderful job. The references from last chapter weren't huge but for anyone who cares to know...Harry's fake name "Orsino Thruston" is the name of the drummer of the Weird Sisters and the motel the boys are staying at "Cokeworth Motel" is named after one of the towns Harry stayed in when the Durselys were running from the letters.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

Sam realized with startling clarity that the motel room was entirely too small to contain his brother's emotions. Dean was pacing the floor in front of the beds, his face a mask of anger but his hazel eyes betrayed the fear in him. His hands were clenched tightly at his sides while his legs ate up the short distance in long strides. The younger man just watched with brown eyes his trek across the room and back as Dean continued to rant to him about exactly what their cousin has done. Once Sam had explained that Harry had just disappeared, literally, Dean had immediately tried to call his phone. Harry didn't pick up and after several more tries it went straight to the generic voicemail; they hadn't had time to record a personalized one yet. Harry had taken off almost an hour ago without a word and Sam was growing more worried.

He'd quickly immersed himself in the webpages he'd shown the younger man but couldn't find anything that would cause him to leave. Each of the victims had police records, though no charges were ever filed against them. Apparently the thing all the men had in common was their affinity for hitting people when they got upset. Miles Anderson had been reported to child services twelve years ago, six months after his wife had died due to suspicious bruising around his son's arms and a broken wrist, that the small child claimed came from falling off his bike…in the middle of winter…with three feet of snow on the ground. The investigation had gone nowhere and he'd never been charged again. There'd also been a standard investigation into his wife's death but it was quickly ruled as car failure. Marc Jacobs on the other hand had many notices. Several people throughout his ten year marriage had come to the police citing spousal abuse but his wife, Beth, had never come forward with allegations and he was never officially charged. Evan Jewel had been charged with assault of an ex-girlfriend but it was dropped due to lack of evidence. All three men had been suspected abusers but weren't ever prosecuted. Sam could understand why someone might want them dead. But while they now knew why the men were being targeted and killed, they still didn't know who was doing it.

A shrill ringing broke the silence. Dean practically dove for the phone perched on the bedside table and opened it before barking into it, "Harry?"

The younger boy cringed. He could hear the anger and desperation in his cousin's voice and he almost wished he'd called Sam's phone instead. Though to be honest, Dean probably would have taken it anyway. He'd spent the better part of an hour talking to Dr. Culvier and going over old ME records. He had a fair idea who the wizard was but he needed to be absolutely certain. "Erm, hello…"

"_Don't you hello me! Where the hell are you_?" Yup, definitely should have called Sam. Harry sighed before answering.

"I was at the morgue, looking at some old records," Harry explained calmly, trying to sound innocent. "I think I may know who the killer is."

"_What do you mean "were"? Where are you now_?" Of course that's the only thing he heard; honestly, the man had a one track mind like freankin' niffler.

"Didn't you hear me?" Harry cried exasperated. "I know who the killer is!"

"_I don't give a damn who the freakin' killer is! I don't care if it's Merlin for crying out loud. Where the hell are you_?" It was at that moment that Harry realized his cousin was worried; he also realized that Dean didn't do "worried" all that well.

"I'm walking towards the minimart down the road from the morgue, I figured neither of us had any breakfast yet so I was going to pick some up before I apparated back," Harry replied, slightly proud of himself that he'd not only remembered his phone but his wallet with the American money as well. He'd hoped the peace offering of food would appease Dean but now he figured he should have called after he'd gotten it.

"_Don't bother, we're on our way_," Dean said. Harry heard his older cousin sigh over the phone. "_Alright, so who's the killer_?"

"Mitchell Anderson," Harry said evenly.

"_The kid_?"

"One and the same," Harry looked down at the information in his hands, giving enough attention to his surroundings that he walked on the sidewalk and not into the street. "When I saw the police reports, especially the one on his mum, I knew he was the one. But I had to make sure."

"_What the hell does this have to do with his mother_?"

"His mum's maiden name is Bethany Greengrass," Harry explained knowing they wouldn't get the reference. "The Greengrasses are a very prominent wizarding family back in England. Apparently Bethany ran away from home a couple years before the First War ended against her family's wishes. She got married and had a kid."

"_But Harry_," Sam's voice came over the phone, soft and understanding. Dean must have put it on speakerphone. "_His mother died when he was seven, in a car accident. We went over the police reports, there was nothing odd about it_."

"The witnesses said there was a green flash just before the car hit the pole, right?" Harry replied. "I think some Death Eaters came looking for Bethany and killed her – Voldemort wasn't particularly understanding about people leaving. The ME and police ruled it a car accident because they didn't see the same signs on her as they did on our victims. Her face was too messed up to see that it was frozen in shock."

"_We looked into the kid Harry_," Dean said, coming over. "_There's nothing odd about him either_."

"No, I think his father knew about the magic and the real reason for his wife's murder. Most wizards come into their magic as children; we first start seeing signs of it when they're four or five, but sometimes as late as seven. I think the first time Miles hurt his son was after he showed signs of magic after his mother had died. His father had come to hate magic, thus he took it out on his son."

"_But he didn't go to a magical school_," Sam ventured but started to see why Mitch was sounding more likely.

"You can refuse," Harry responded. "Children can be homeschooled or attend different institutions than the ones that first sent them their letters. It's possible Miles didn't allow his son to attend magic school and because the AMG is so lax, they didn't check up on him properly to make sure he was receiving an education."

"_But how'd he learn the spell or get the wand_?" Sam asked logically. Harry frowned.

"I'm not sure, I—" He broke off speaking and glanced around. He couldn't see anyone but he was pretty sure someone was following him. He could hear Dean and Sam's voices coming from the phone in his hand but he didn't answer until he was sure he couldn't find the source of his worry. "Sorry about that. I thought –" An explosion of pain ripped through his head and he tumbled to ground, unaware of anything as the darkness overtook him.

**0~*~*~0**

"Harry!" Dean shouted taking his eyes off the road for a minute to look at the phone, half expecting, half hoping his cousin would pop out of it. "Harry!"

"_Sorry about that, I thought_—" Dean's stomach dropped as he heard a loud crashing sound come over the phone. There were a few footsteps and a scrambling noise before a dial tone reached their ears. Sam picked up the phone to hang-up and Dean glared at the road ahead as his foot stomped down on the accelerator. They spun around a corner and barreled down the street the morgue was on. They'd been so close_, so close_, damn it! Dean swerved harshly into a parking space, for once unmindful of how his car was treated. Grabbing his phone, he quickly redialed Harry's number, praying the bastard who took him didn't also take his phone or smash it. He started running along the sidewalk towards the convenience store situated on the corner. It wasn't that far, how come he didn't make it before something happened?

A ringtone filled the air and the brothers sprinted towards it, recognizing it as Harry's newly bought phone. Sam picked it up having gotten there first with his ginormous legs but Dean grabbed it from his hands and held it close to him, as though it would magically make his cousin reappear. Sam began looking around the area, trying to find clues as to where Harry and his kidnapper could have gone, but the only thing there was his cellphone.

"Alright, alright," Sam said grabbing his brother's arm. "What do we know?" Dean seemed to break out of whatever trance he'd been in and strode toward the car.

"We know that punk kid took Harry," the older man growled as he climbed into the car and barely waited for Sam to shut his door before peeling out of the parking space.

"No, we know he's the killer," Sam amended. "But it's pretty likely he also took Harry. Where are you going?"

"The kid's house," Dean said, pressing his foot harder onto the accelerator. Once he got him back, Dean was going to kick his ass for making him worry like this, after he pounded that stupid little bastard for taking him in the first place. Then Harry was going to be training for a month, this getting kidnapped thing was getting old.

"You really think he took him back to his place?" Sam asked, grabbing the door in order to remain upright as Dean took a turn at speeds that belonged on the Autobahn rather than middle America suburbia.

"Not with all those people there," Dean said. "But they'll tell us where he might go." Sam nodded before hissing in pain and leaning forward clutching his head. _A hallway with concrete floor and orange metal squares. Bright harsh industrial lighting. _Sam took a deep breath, looking up before biting back a groan of pain. _Gray-sided boxy room. A rolling sound grinded through the silence before the room was flooded in darkness. _Breathing heavily, the younger Winchester looked towards his brother; Dean was glancing from the road to Sam worriedly. He had enough to deal with; he didn't need this. "_Sam!"_

"What the hell man?" Sam ran his hands through his hair, trying to hang onto that desperate shout.

"I think Harry sent me a vision," Sam said carefully, rubbing his forehead. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Dean asked surprised before his eyes hardened. "What did you see?"

"A concrete room with metal walls," Sam replied. He was glad he had a general idea of where his cousin was but it'd be nice if it didn't come with a splitting headache. Dean nodded grimly as he roared down the street Mitch's house was on.

"His father's storage unit," Dean said. "He took him to his father's storage unit." The Impala screeched to a halt outside the white Victorian and Dean threw open his door bolting towards the house. He banged on the door harshly. "Hey! Jamie!"

The door swung open to reveal the blond woman they'd met earlier. "Agent McKean? What are you doing here?"

"Your brother's storage unit," he said deliberately stepping into the woman's space. "Where is it?"

"What does that have to do—" Jamie asked backing up fearfully.

"Where is it?" Dean was getting more desperate and it showed in his voice. Sam put his hand on his brother's arm pulling him back.

"It's important that we find the unit," Sam said, trying to sound slightly more professional. Jamie sighed before she motioned them inside.

**0~*~*~0**

Harry groaned in the darkness. Not only was his head killing him from where the bloody wanker knocked him out but sending that vision jacked up his pain. He'd started waking up as he was floating down the hall towards the unit and the fog fully cleared as the door was being rolled shut. Harry had very few options open to him. The spell Hermione had come up with to protect his wand had been brilliant at the time but now it was quite annoying. Due to his headache, he couldn't concentrate on calling his wand to him. He'd never tried to connect with his cousin consciously but he hoped it worked. Dean was going to kill him once he found him. Plus he had a very bad feeling that the pain he was feeling now was nothing compared to what he would feel once the older man began stepping up his training.

Five minutes later, the door was suddenly thrown open and Harry stumbled to his feet, his eyes squinting into the light as he tried to adjust his eyes. A man was pushed forward and he fell at Harry's feet. He appeared to be in his early forties with graying brown hair and large glasses hanging fromhis neck. Behind him, Mitch stood in the doorway, a shocked expression on his face. "You're awake."

"And you're back early," Harry responded his voice a little shaky. There was no way this kid had learned to apparate without a formal magical education so how was he moving around so quickly? The man looked between the two teenagers, opening his mouth but no words came out. Silencing charm.

"Well, portkeys are much easier to learn than apparation, wouldn't you say?" Mitch said, smiling. He strode into the room causing Harry to grab the man and pull him back. The older teen stopped at the sight glaring at the pair. "Do you even know who you're protecting?"

"I don't care," Harry said. "He doesn't deserve to die; he should be tried." Mitch laughed maliciously, a hard glint in his eyes.

"Tried?" he asked sarcastically. "You're joking right?" The man stopped trying to talk and was listening avidly, flinching when Mitch turned towards him. "Don't you see? He's never going to be tried; he's never going to be convicted for his crimes. He's always going to slip through the cracks. But this," he brandished a wand, waving it in front of the pair. "This will make them, make _him_, pay!"

"Why does it have to be you?" Harry asked, trying to stall. If he could hold out long enough for the brothers to get there or for his magic to heal his headache enough to call his wand back to him, he'd be able to save this man. Mitch's face morphed into a mask of pain and anger.

"You don't know what it's like!" Mitch shouted. "My father beat me for something I couldn't control! Oh, he never got reported because he got better at hiding the bruises! You don't know what it's like to always fear for your life; you don't know the hell I lived through!"

"But this isn't right," Harry responded, trying not to think about his own childhood. "This is murder!"

"This is justice!" Mitch straightened, his emotions burying themselves leaving nothing but stoic calm behind. Harry glanced towards the door; he thought he heard a sound, a shuffling of feet. "I'm surprised you're even fighting this."

"What?" asked Harry. How could he know about that? No one knew about his relatives, not even Ron or Hermione. "What are you talking about?"

"I know who you are," Mitch said beginning to pace in front of the pair. "The Great Harry Potter. You know, I'd thought you'd be taller." He strode forward, ripping the man from Harry's grip before punching the younger boy hard across the face. "You, the man who killed hundreds to protect the innocents, should be beside me in this."

Mitch had seriously lost it Harry decided. "I don't know where you're getting your information from, mate, but I never killed anyone. And I can't let you—" Harry lunged forward despite the pain in his head and face but Mitch was expecting it. He threw a petrificus spell at him and the younger teen felt his legs lock up on him.

"You can't stop me!" Mitch said viciously. "You're just like the rest, a coward, a pampered spoiled coward who couldn't understand what these men do to people!" His body was in pain, he was completely defenseless to this psychotic idiot and there was nothing he could do to stop him from killing that man. Harry felt his anger well up inside him.

"You think you've got it all figured out, huh?" Harry said sarcastically. "You think you're the only one whose family hated them huh? Well, let me tell you something; you're wrong. Maybe I don't know what you went through, but then again maybe I do! But this…what you're doing…you're no better than they are. When you stoop to their level, you become a monster just like them!"

"Shut up!" Mitch shouted, his voice reverberating through the unit. His breath came in harsh pants before he straightened, his breathing evening out forcefully. Mitch's eyes grew hard and cold as he stared down at Harry who realized too late it had never been about saving him. Mitch had killed them all at their houses but he'd brought this man here. Perhaps to set an example, to prove to Harry that he was right, that he wasn't helpless anymore…who cares? The boy was never going to let him live. "I can see this is getting us nowhere. _Avada Kedevra_!" The flash of green light filled the room. Mitch let go of the dead man's shirt and he slumped to the floor, his face forever twisted in shock and fear. It was over before Harry could even stop it, before he even knew it was happening. "I'm sorry. _Avada_—" A loud shot rang through the unit. The teenager's eyes bulged slightly, his mouth moving in shock. He stumbled around and saw Sam and Dean standing in the doorway of the unit, guns aimed at him. Blood was soaking through his shirt front and Harry could see the small blossoming hole in his back. He brought his wand hand up but before he could utter a single syllable, his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell to the floor beside the other man. Harry felt movement return to his legs and he scrambled up.

"Harry?" Dean called across the room. "You alright?"

"I am now," the younger boy responded. He skirted around the two bodies and stood between his cousins, allowing them to check him over for themselves that he was indeed alright. Dean's eyes landed briefly on the steadily forming bruise on his cheek while Sam had a steady hand behind him, noticing the slight wavering in his step. "Can we just get out of here?"

"Yeah, let's go," Dean said. Harry knew they'd come back after he'd been safely deposited in the Impala to deal with the bodies but right now, he just wanted to get away, away from the bad memories the kid had stirred up, away from the death and the accusations, away from his own incompetence. For once, he wouldn't complain about training, Harry wanted to be pushed to his limit. He never wanted to feel that helpless again.


	27. Part VII: Chapter 26

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **Alright, I hope this chapter meets everyone's expectations. I tried to make it as clear as possible while keeping it suitably vague. Harry's past is something everyone interprets for themselves and I didn't want to mess with that. Thanks for all the reviews. I'm really behind on getting back to you all, so I'm sorry about that...Life got ahead of me. Speaking of life, I have a job, officially! Yeah! Unfortunatley this means less time for writing. I'll try to keep up with posting but I can't make any promises. Anyway, back to my thanks, big thank you to Kirallie for putting up with my spastic bursts of writing and sending emails at all hours of the day. You, chica, are amazing. The last thing I wanted to comment on was that in the last scene, all the mistakes Harry made are entirely possible, I speak from experience.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

Harry sat morosely in the back seat of the Impala, barely feeling the leather under his fingertips. He was numb, completely numb. He'd seen people die before, many more human looking creatures since meeting his cousins but this time, it was different. He'd been young when Cedric was killed in front of him; he'd never seen such carelessness for human life before until then. Sirius' death had angered him, had ripped him apart, had nearly destroyed him but he'd survived. Harry had grown used to death, he sort of had to in a war but it was different. Then it was kill or be killed. It wasn't malicious, it wasn't cruel; it was survival. Even during the war though, he'd rarely seen death. He could count of one hand the number of people he'd actually seen get killed during the Final Battle. Harry had only seen the aftermath, the dead bodies, the weeping families, those were what he knew about death. But today, just now, that man's death was real and it was pointless. Mitch was so angry, so tired of the justice system failing, that he'd taken things into his own hands. And Harry could have been just like him.

It had been scary the similarities between himself and Voldemort. Both halfbloods, both with less than pleasant childhoods, both orphans trying to prove to the world around them that they were better than their upbringing. Deep down though, Harry had always known what love was, he'd felt it once and perhaps that short time had forever changed him. But during his years at school, when he was alone, Harry had wondered what would have happened if his uncle had succeeded in keeping him from school. Where would he be? Who would he be? Mitch had answered that question. But would he have turned out like the angry teenager? They'd both spent time with loving parents, magic had taken that love away, had caused the pain they'd felt afterwards. Would Harry have turned to violence once he found out about his heritage? He didn't want to think about it but he couldn't get Mitch's face out of his mind.

Dean and Sam broke through his thoughts as they slammed their doors shut. The subtle purr of the engine rolled through the car and Harry turned to the window, starring unseeing at the scenery rushing past. The silence should have been his first clue that something was wrong but he was too wrapped up in his mind to realize. Harry felt someone shaking his leg and he jerked towards them, his hands coming up instinctively before he saw Sam who was reaching over the front seat.

"What?" he asked tiredly.

"Where were you?" Sam responded. "We've been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes."

"Sorry, just thinking," Harry said, straightening up and trying to sound as though he was better than he really was.

"Don't strain yourself," Dean said jokingly but the humor didn't quite reach his eyes. Harry saw his hazel eyes shift towards his brother and he knew they were up to something. Sam smiled at him gently. Harry didn't have to wait long.

"We heard what he said to you," Sam started and Harry's face scrunched up in genuine confusion. How long had they been in the storage unit? "Your conversation carried but all the metal made it hard to track." The younger boy nodded in understanding. "Harry, were you abused?"

Green eyes grew large before narrowing in anger. He suddenly realized why Dean never liked talking to Sam about emotional things; the younger Winchester went right for the jugular. "No," came the quick response. He crossed his arms over his chest as he bit his lip and tried to maintain eye contact with Sam. For his part, the older man looked towards his brother significantly. "I wasn't!"

"What about what the demon said?" Sam questioned, his big doe eyes trying to understand the secrets of Harry's past.

"Demons lie," Harry said almost before Sam was finished speaking.

"And sometimes they twist the truth." Sam sighed heavily. "What did it mean when it said Dad wasn't the first uncle to hit you?"

"It lied," Harry said desperately, biting his lip.

"Really?" Sam asked disbelievingly. Harry knew his cousin wouldn't let up until Harry told the truth. Sam had learned the art of lying and how to detect when other people were lying. The younger boy tried for a different tactic.

"It was just the once," Harry responded frantically, suddenly wanting them to know it wasn't as bad as they were thinking. The car swerved to the shoulder throwing Harry into the seat. Silence ruled as Dean took several calming breathes. "It…it was an accident. And Aunt Petunia was so mad. She threatened to leave him if he ever hit me again. It wasn't that bad." Technically…

"Wasn't that bad?" Sam said incredulously in a loud voice. He was clearly upset over Harry's non-attitude toward the entire episode but it was Dean's quiet question that cut through the tension.

"When?" The single word caused Harry to look up and see his cousin's furious gaze. "How old were you?"

"Six," Harry answered quietly, almost ashamed of his own weakness when he was younger. "I was six." Dean unbuckled and got out of the car without another word. Harry watched as the older man began to pace on the side of the road before turning his green eyes towards Sam. "He didn't mean to…" …that time.

Sam turned fully to face him, cramming his long legs under him. He probably would have climbed over the seat if it wouldn't have been so awkward. The older man surveyed his cousin. Harry looked like a lost child, his green eyes searching desperately into his cousin's browns. Sam could see how much this secret was slowly eating at the younger boy. He opened his mouth but Harry's accented voice spoke first.

"Is Dean mad at me?" Sam sucked in a sharp breath. He reached over the seat and tilted Harry's face towards him.

"No," Sam said firmly. "Dean is_ not_ mad at you. He's just…" He sighed and glanced outside towards his brother. "He's just mad at the situation, at our uncle, but not at you. Okay?" Harry nodded slowly before jumping slightly. The back door swung open and Dean slid in beside him. His face was closed, his emotions were buried though Sam saw the smoldering anger still in his brother's hazel eyes. Harry was glancing towards Dean furtively.

"What happened?" Dean asked though it was more of a demand that a question. Harry looked down into his lap and bit his lip. The brothers shared a look; every time Harry bit his lip, he was debating with himself or nervous about what he was going to tell them.

"Look," Harry sighed. Looking up, they both noticed that he was no longer upset, he was determined. They weren't going to get the whole story. "It wasn't as bad as you're thinking. Yes, Uncle Vernon hit me. But it was only once and I barely even remember it! My childhood wasn't perfect but I wasn't abused. They wouldn't—" He broke off suddenly, looking away. Harry hadn't realized how difficult it would be to talk about this calmly, to prove to them he wasn't some messed up kid. Sure, his life was difficult and he didn't get everything he'd wanted or needed but it could have been worse. He could have been given up or beaten or killed. Dumbledore wouldn't have allowed that to happen, he wouldn't!

"They wouldn't what? Who's they?" Sam asked gently and Harry's eyes grew before he realized they were talking about his earlier comments. No! Tears pricked his eyes. He refused to talk about this; they protected him! Harry shook his head, viciously swiping his hand across his eyes trying to stop the tears. Dean grabbed his hand. "Who?"

"You don't understand!" Harry shouted, his emotions getting the better of him. "They protected me. They were supposed to protect me! They wouldn't have let me…I wasn't abused. I couldn't have been! They were supposed to…" Tears filled Harry's eyes as everything came crashing down, as all the repressed hurt from his past bubbled up within him. "Why did they hurt me? Why didn't they love me? I tried, I tried so hard. I did everything they said; I just wanted them to love me. I….I just wanted…Why?" Dean pulled his cousin against his chest as the younger boy finally broke down. He'd been sent to his aunt and uncle for protection, Dumbledore wouldn't have left him there…Why did nobody help him? He'd been so little and he just wanted someone to love him. Family was supposed to love him…

Sam watched as his brother held Harry, gripping him tightly but not saying a word. This anguish went deeper than just grief; this had been building for years and he knew he couldn't help as well as Dean. Everything made so much more sense, Harry's reluctance to open up to them, his fear of abandonment, even his nervous habits. They all stemmed from his childhood. While Harry wasn't willing to admit to himself that he'd been abused, Sam knew.

Dean sat with Harry until the younger boy fell into silence, staring out the window, lost in his own memories. He nodded at his brother and Sam slid over behind the wheel. Normally he'd want to drive to help clear his head and emotions but he couldn't let go of Harry, not yet. Dean couldn't get over what his cousin had said: _They were supposed to protect me!_ They could have done that, Dad and him wouldn't have let anything happen to Harry, if only they'd known.

The older man continued to brood until Sam pulled into their room at a no-name motel several hours from Warren. Normally, the Winchesters would have driven further before stopping but this wasn't a normal hunt. Harry jerked as soon as the rumble of the Impala stopped. Keeping his eyes down, he allowed himself to be led into the room before grabbing his toiletries and entering the bathroom.

The two Winchesters sank heavily onto their respective beds and didn't move until the sound of water running could be heard. Dean's voice startled Sam from his thoughts.

"He's not goin' back," Dean said, hard and determined.

"If they haven't come after him yet," Sam said glancing at his brother's cold face. "I don't think they will."

"No, to England," Dean amended. Sam grew confused. "Not without me and seeing as I don't do planes…"

"Dean," Sam sighed. He knew his brother was angry but this was a tad unreasonable, even if a part of Sam fully agreed. "We can't keep him from going home."

"Home? _This_ is his home," Dean growled. "_We're_ his home." He stood up and began pacing, his body tight with tension and coiled with emotion. "He should've been with us all along, never should've gone through any of it! I don't care if I have to superglue his ass to the Impala, he's staying!" Sam raised an eyebrow. Unfortunately his brother would make good on his threat if Harry tried to return to England and he really didn't want to deal with either of them if Dean tried it.

"Then let's give him every reason to stay," Sam responded looking up. Dean glanced at him confused before his features evened out in understanding. So Harry had a crappy childhood, that was over. He was with them now and he wasn't ever going to question his family's love for him if it was the last thing Dean did. The older man's hazel eyes flashed to the bathroom door before sweeping around the room, settling lightly on his cousin's things and ended looking out the window at his car. Smiling, Dean turned back to towards the bathroom. Sam glanced between his brother and his car several times as the idea dawned on him. The youngest Winchester sat back drawing in a sharp breath.

"Have fun," he said getting up to grab his laptop. He settled it on the table. "I'm out; goin' through it once was bad enough." Dean snorted.

"What are you talkin' about?" Dean asked incredulously. "I'm awesome at that teacher crap."

**0~*~*~0**

The water cascaded down Harry's back as he stood under the nozzle, barely feeling it as his thoughts careened violently in all directions. His childhood was off-limits, everyone back at school knew that, his best friends were the first to glare at anyone who even thought of bringing it up, but in one afternoon, it'd exploded in his face. He'd told his cousins that it hadn't been that bad, that Uncle Vernon had only hit him once, but if he was being truthful with himself (which he only was when he had to be), it was worse than he'd told them. Huddling in his cupboard at night, crying silently into the dark, fearfully listening for any movement above him in case his relatives weren't asleep like he'd thought had been the tip of the iceburg that was his life before Hogwarts. Harry'd been scared some nights to even close his eyes. But Sam and Dean didn't need to know that.

They were innocent in a sense. They had each other, had a family; they didn't need to know about the dark aspects of Harry's childhood. Plus, as angered and scared and hurt as he was, Harry didn't care about them any more. They'd done what they were meant to do, badly, and he didn't live with them any more. After he'd completely broken down and gotten the emotions he'd kept contained for so long out of his system, Harry realized he'd gotten over their neglect a long time ago but he'd never let himself acknowledge it, never allowed himself to deal with it so he could move on. His emotions had been like a open wound that he'd covered but never tended to; it had become infected and over time it had festered. Once Harry had flushed the wound and gotten all the bad parts out of it, it began to heal. The wound would probably scar but Harry had dealt with scars his whole life so what was one more?

Stepping out of the shower, the younger boy wrapped a towel around his waist and wiped the fog off the mirror. He stared at himself. Remus had once told him that he was willing to trust Snape because he'd taken care of the werewolf even when he hated him and because Dumbledore trusted him. It wasn't the same as Harry's situation but he figured that if the two men could put aside their differences, the least he could do was let his relatives go. Hell, Harry'd tried to get Voldemort to feel remorse despite the fact that the man had killed his parents and tried to kill him numerous times. If he could do that for the most notorious mass murderer of all time, Harry could forgive his relatives. He could...he had to. Maybe Harry wasn't quite as over his hurt as he thought.

Shaking his head, Harry sighed and pulled the door open, shoving his emotions back in their cage. Sam and Dean both turned to look at him, their eyes traveling up and down his body, checking for injuries mentally and physically. The younger Winchester nodded once he was satisfied with Harry's appearance and ducked his head behind his laptop. Harry gave him an odd look before turning back to Dean who had a mixture of emotions crossing his face. First of all, apprehension for Harry was the most prominent. But a tinge of leftover anger and overprotectiveness followed as a close second. The strange gleam in Dean's eye was the emotion that caught Harry off guard. He eyed him warily as Dean smiled widely and Sam shook his head further keeping his head out it.

**0~*~*~0**

Harry took a deep breath letting his hands rest on the steering wheel before gripping it tightly, letting the feel of the leather bite into his palms. His eyes flickered to his cousin sitting next to him, his body tense and coiled, staring hard at him. Harry let his hands fall back into his lap, resting them on his thighs waiting for instructions.

"Alright," Dean said, his voice a tad higher than normal. He cleared it before continuing as though nothing had happened. Harry bit his cheek so he wouldn't smile. "Let's go over it again."

"Right, this is the gear shift," Harry said as he brought his hand up to rest on the level attached to the steering wheel. "I pull it down to put it into drive or reverse and push it up into park. I am to put it in no other locations upon pain of death unless specifically told by you and _not _Sam, because Sam doesn't appreciate the fine tuned suspension of your baby," The younger boy quoted trying hard not to roll his eyes, knowing Dean wouldn't let him learn to drive if he sensed anything less than complete cooperation. Dean nodded his head allowing him to continue. Harry moved his left hand to the lever on the opposite side of the steering wheel. "This is the turn signal. I push it up when I want to turn right and down when I want to turn left. I don't need to worry about turning on the lights because I will never under any circumstances be driving the Impala at night and/or hazardous conditions and therefore do not need to turn the lights on."

Harry went through everything Dean had told him for the past several days, often, or rather always, quoting verbatim what his cousin said. Dean was carefully listening to everything the younger boy said, ready to jump down his throat if he didn't know exactly the ins and outs of driving the car. After Harry was done, silence settled and Dean took a deep breath.

"Alright, start her up." Harry carefully turned the key in the ignition and let the car idle for a minute, running his hands along the steering wheel reverently. He could completely understand his cousins' obsession with this car; it purred like a large cat: all power and grace. "Okay, with your foot firmly on the brake, put her into reverse. Firmly!" Harry pressed down on the brake pedal and slid his right hand from the wheel and taking a breath, put the gear shift until the little red "R" lit up. He quickly repositioned his hands where Dean had shown him, glancing up into the rearview mirror before checking his side mirrors. The parking lot of the motel they were staying in was clear; there were only two other cars there and they were on the opposite end of the lot. "Now I want you to slowly release the brake and gently, _gently!_, step on the gas. Wait, I'm not done yet! As you step on the gas, slowly turn the wheel to the right. Alright…check your mirrors!"

Harry was beginning to understand why Sam opted out of their little driving expedition. Dean was paranoid about his car, but with good reason, and he definitely knew how to drive, so Harry was willing to let this go…as long as Dean didn't reach over the seat and grab the wheel from him. Getting his nerves and his frustrations under control, Harry slowly let his foot off and when the car began to roll backwards, the younger boy pushed his foot into the gas. He must have done it too hard though because the car lurched backwards. Startled, Harry slammed his foot on the brake and he slammed forward. His knuckles were white where he gripped the steering wheel, his green eyes large and staring unseeing while his heart was jackhammering in his chest.

"Dude!" Harry jerked his head to the right staring at Dean who had both hands braced against the dash. "I said gently!" He pulled his hands back and ran them through his hair in a manner reminiscent of his cousin. Dean noticed that Harry was not relaxed. "Calm down…breath man. Just…now you know what it feels like. Okay let's try it again." Harry nodded his head jerkily before looking forward again. Swallowing, the young boy hesitantly took his foot off the brake and this time with a little less force, pressed down on the gas. The car rolled backwards slowly and Harry smiled slightly before remembering to turn the wheel. "Turn…turn! Harder…"

Pretty soon the car was creeping backwards turning as it did so until it was out of the parking space and facing towards the exit. Harry quickly pressed the brake, once again jerking the car to a stop. He winced in preparation for Dean's reprimand but after silence for a minute he glanced over to see his cousin with his mouth firmly shut, no doubt grinding his teeth.

"Okay put the gear shift into drive. Remember, gently press on the gas, gently." Nodding, this time a little less nervous, Harry reached up and switched gears before easing his foot onto the gas pedal. The car slid forward slowly and Harry pressed a little harder. It revved slightly and Harry let up a bit but not completely. The car continued forward at a steady albeit slow pace and they rolled toward the exit. Dean tensed slightly as they passed the two other cars but eased up once they'd passed them without incident. At the road's edge, Harry stopped more gently than he had yet and he smiled with accomplishment turning towards his cousin. Dean looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Great, we're out of the parking space," Dean said dryly. "Just took you twenty years."

"Would you rather I peeled out of here?" Harry asked rolling his eyes. Dean's eyes narrowed at the implied threat before taking a breath and letting it out slowly. He knew his cousin was just letting off some steam and tension so he let it go. "Where to now?"

"We're just goin' round the block. Take a right here." The motel was conveniently situated in a the middle of a square block, allowing for Harry to only make right turns on roads that didn't get above twenty-five miles per hour. Harry overtly put his turn signal on, accidently switching the left indicator before changing it. He looked to the left, then to the right, then to the left again. And then for good measure, Harry repeated the actions until he was absolutely positive there were no cars coming from either direction. The car slowly rolled out of the parking lot and turned onto the street. Harry positioned the car into its proper lane. After riding around with the brothers for the past several months, he'd mostly gotten over driving on the wrong side of the street, though he made a conscious effort to stay on the right side. Though apparently Dean wasn't completely satisfied with the car's location.

"Left," he said. Harry's brow scrunched in confusion; there's no road on the left. "Left…left!" Harry jerked the wheel slightly to the left and the car rolled towards the double yellow. "The car goes in the middle of the lane, the car! Not you, the car!" Harry swallowed nervously. Dean was glaring at him but the younger boy refused to take his eyes off the road.

"Sorry," he muttered. Dean turned forward and let his glare slide. He knew Harry was trying and he really was doing alright, not as good as he had done his first time out but everyone can't be perfect. The rest of the drive went relatively smoothly though Dean clenched his fists every time Harry made a turn or drifted even a centimeter towards the right. It took far longer to drive just once around the block, due to the glacial speed Harry was driving at but Dean would rather have him go too slow than too fast. There'd be time for speed later. His parking could do with work though.

Once Harry put the car in park and shut off the engine, he let his hands slide down the wheel to rest in his lap. His hands were shaking slightly as his adrenaline caught up with him but he took several deep breaths to control his nerves. Dean smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Not bad, squirt." Harry glanced over at him in shock. No one had ever given him a term of endearment before. He had titles, loads of them – Boy-Who-Live, the Chosen One, Lord Potter and Black, Undesirable Number One – and slurs, loads of those too – boy, kid, Saint Potter, Heir of Slytherin – but he'd never had an endearment before. It felt kinda nice.

Harry smiled at his cousin before they both got out of the car. "Thanks…prat." He turned and walked away, grinning to himself before tossing the keys behind him, knowing Dean would catch them. The oldest Winchester stumbled for a moment when the insult left Harry's lips. His right hand snatched the keys from midair and his lips twitched up into a smirk. Harry would have fit in just fine with them, even if he does drive like a grandma…or Sam.


	28. Part VIII: Chapter 27

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **Here's the next part. I'm glad that everyone liked the driving scene from last chatper. It was my first attempt at humor so I'm glad it well over well. Thanks to all my reviewers, they're greatly appreciated. Thank you to Kirallie for checking over everything and correcting my tenses, I tend to slip occasionally! Some people may not like this part but for those that don't, I promise you guys will like the end and it won't last long! Please just give it a shot! That was cryptic enough, right? Okay, that's about it, enjoy!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

**Part VIII: No Exit**

**0~*~*~0**

_Don't look back, got a new direction_

_I loved you once, needed protection _

_You're still a part of everything I do_

_You're on my heart just like a tattoo_

_"Tattoo" Jordin Sparks_

**0~*~*~0**

Harry was tired. But it was a good tired, the type of tired that came from pushing himself in order to improve and knowing that at the end of the day, he was better because of it. He had felt the same tired after every Quidditch practice or defense lesson. Ever since Mitch had so easily subdued him, the younger boy had been obsessed with his training. He began getting up at five am and going for a run. It had been difficult at first, mainly because he'd never been taught to run long distances, he'd only ever done it to get away from people trying to hurt him. However, he gradually figured out how to get the most out of his runs without tiring himself out too quickly.

The first time he'd gone running, his cousins nearly had a heart attack. In his defense he'd taken his phone _and_ left a note, but were those valid responses to Dean, no. The older man recognized the fear in Harry and understood his need to train, so rather than have him learn it wrong, he decided to teach him himself. He ran with Harry a few times in the beginning in order to help him but after a few days, the five am wake-up call was getting to him. He just wasn't an early riser. Dean decided to make a schedule for the younger boy so he didn't exhaust himself. Sam also went running with him but Harry soon came to hate those days. With Sam's longer legs and boundless energy, Harry often felt as though he'd run twice as far as he normally did trying to keep up.

They'd sporadically trained Harry in weapons, starting with that long ago lesson from John in the back lot off the highway. But just as with the running, Harry wanted more stable strenuous lessons. He didn't want to just learn weapons; he wanted to learn hand-to-hand, tracking, stealth, anything that would help him survive. At Hogwarts, the younger boy had been taught defensive and offensive magic but he'd never been trained. He was never a soldier. Harry wanted to feel safe when he walked out in a crowd, safe in the knowledge that he could save himself.

Harry quickly realized he was much better at the stealth and tracking than he was at the hand-to-hand, it was all those years sneaking around under the invisibility cloak at Hogwarts that helped, but he was getting better. Due to his size disadvantage as well as his lack of experience, he didn't think he'd be taking down his cousins any time soon but they were patient and showed him tips on how to defend and attack against larger enemies.

The three boys were passing through Nebraska after their last hunt in Wyoming. There was a water wraith in Yellowstone Lake which was killing tourists who were ice fishing there. Apparently a man had gone ice fishing with his friends but had fallen in and his friends had been unable to save him. To warn others against dying as he had the wraith began killing ice fisherman as a deterrent. After getting rid of the spirit, the boys had decided to stop by the Roadhouse to check in with Ellen.

"Los Angeles, California," Dean said suddenly, breaking the silence inside the Impala as they sat enjoying each other's presence before entering the Roadhouse. Sam glanced at him curiously, taking in his brother's eyes which held a mischievous glint. Harry leaned forward in his seat.

"What's there?" the younger boy asked his voice full of curiosity. Dean turned in his seat, the leather groaning. He was completely impassive as he caught Harry's eye.

"A young girl has been kidnapped by an evil cult." Harry's jade eyes widened and he opened his mouth to demand more information but Sam beat him to it.

"Yeah? Girl got a name?" Harry turned to his younger cousin, his face scrunched in confusion. Of course, she's got a name but what the hell it had to do with the case, he didn't know. And why was he practically laughing?

"Katie Holmes," Dean responded, his face finally betraying the joke and Harry rolled his eyes as he slumped back in his seat. Sam laughed as his eyes lit up, both at the joke and at Harry's gullibility; he really should have learned by now.

"That's funny. And for you, so bitchy." Harry was beginning to understand Sam and Dean's humor though it was often hard to participate as it revolved around popular culture, particularly eighties pop culture, that he just didn't have knowledge of. The music references he unfortunately understood; he and Sam were a united front against Dean's monopoly of the radio but so far they'd been unsuccessful, though his oldest cousin had bowed down to his own rule and let Harry listen to his own music during their driving lessons. Sam had a self-satisfied smirk on his face whenever a song came on that Dean particularly didn't like.

Ever since Harry had told them about his childhood, the brothers had done everything to make up for it. At first Harry was confused about why Dean would want to stay in for the night watching _The Shining _or _The Exorcist_ with his baby brother and cousin when he could be out at a bar or why Sam taught him how to properly use a computer even after learning that Harry's magic had the potential to blow it up; but he'd quickly realized it was just their way of incorporating him into their family. Both Dean and Sam had started using the nickname Dean had given him as well as others, making Harry feel at the same time happy and annoyed.

Angered voices broke through their happy atmosphere and the three boys turned towards the Roadhouse. It sounded like a pretty bad fight had erupted inside. Dean's eyes flickered to Sam. "Of course on the other hand– cat fight."

**0~*~*~0**

Jo glared harshly at her mother as she slammed around the bar. She knew her mother loved her, really she did, but the woman could be so maddening at times. Why couldn't she simply let her live her own life, let her make her own mistakes, let her grow up? Jo was sick of being coddled, of watching people come into the Roadhouse and actually contribute to the world while she was stuck watching it all from the sidelines.

"I am your mother, I don't have to be reasonable," Ellen said, her voice loud and demanding as she brushed past her daughter.

"You can't keep me here!" Jo shouted, her hands balled into fists at her sides. If she could have stamped her foot without looking like an idiot, she probably would have.

"Don't you bet on that sweety," Ellen responded.

"What are you gonna do?" Jo asked sarcastically. "You gonna chain me up in the basement?" The three boys entered the bar, careful to keep out of sight of the women until the fighting and the shouting had diminished to dull roar.

Ellen grabbed a chair from a table and roughly jerked it to the floor. "You know what? You've had worse ideas than that recently! Hey, if you don't wanna stay, don't stay. Go back to school!"

"I didn't belong there! I was a freak with a knife collection!" Jo said exasperated. They'd obviously had this conversation before.

"Yeah, but getting yourself killed in some dusty back road, _that's_ where you belong?" Harry shifted slightly as he heard what Ellen thought of hunting. Jo caught sight of them over her mother's shoulder and stilled. The two women turned to face them before Ellen shook her head. "Guys, bad time."

"Obviously," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. Sam elbowed him while Dean shot him a look.

"Yes, ma'am," the younger Winchester replied congenially.

"Yeah, we rarely drink before ten anyway," Dean agreed moving towards Harry, fully prepared to drag him from the bar for his rude comment so they could have words about respect. The younger boy was really very polite but whenever somebody said or did something he disagreed with, he'd shoot his mouth off. Harry began backing away once he spotted Dean.

"Wait," Jo's voice stopped them in their tracks. Her sure quick strides brought her to stand in front of them. "I want to know what they think about this."

"I don't care what they think," Ellen said. The door opened slowly as a family of four entered the bar, bright yellow t-shirts contrasting sharply with the drab decor of the Roadhouse. Each parent had a tight grip on a small child, both twins with curly blond hair.

"Are you guys open?" The man asked hesitantly while his wife eyed the place disdainfully.

"Yes!"

"No!" The man glanced awkwardly towards the boys before smiling slightly.

"We'll just check out the Arby's down the road." As they shuffled out, the phone rang breaking the silence. Jo looked significantly at her mother who sighed as she went to answer it. Dean crossed his arms over his chest as he glared down at his cousin who was determinedly not catching his eye. Jo didn't seem to notice as she shoved a manila folder at them.

"Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment." She waved the folder more insistently at Dean. "Go on take it, it won't bite."

"No but your mom might," Dean replied refusing to touch the folder.

Harry rolled his eyes and took the file from Jo. As he flipped through it, he said, "She's less likely to kill me than him." Jo nodded in agreement before continuing.

"And this girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years, six women have vanished –- all from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two, so cops never eyeball the pattern. So, we're either dealing with one very old serial killer, or—"

Dean cut her off before she could continue. "Who put this together? Ash?" He was looking over his cousin's shoulder as Harry flipped through the pages, quickly noticing the newspapers and maps that were heavily highlighted and marked up.

"I did it myself," she replied evenly.

"I gotta admit, we've hit the road for a lot less," Sam said hesitantly.

"It's actually relatively thorough," Harry commented. "Shouldn't be too difficult to find the ghost if it sticks to the pattern." The thoroughness of the notes reminded Harry strongly of Hermione and he knew Jo had done her research properly. The only reason Dean wasn't jumping on this case was because Jo presented it to them.

"Good, you like it so much, you take it," Ellen said, walking abruptly around the countertop.

"Mom!" Jo immediately protested. But it seemed the older woman had had enough.

"Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. I won't lose you, too. I just won't." Silence settled uncomfortably around them as they all looked away from each other.

The door banged open again and Ellen turned towards it, a sigh already on her lips. "We're closed." A young girl, a year or so younger than Harry, stood in the doorway with her long red hair framing the side of her face. She smiled and her brown eyes darted between the five people in the room, not at all perturbed by Ellen's abrupt comment. Before any of them could say another word, she flew across the room and wrapped herself about Harry. He was stunned but immediately enveloped her in a hug, his hands running themselves through her hair and down her back. He pulled back slightly but kept his hands around her.

"Gin, what are you doing here?" he asked. Her smile softened and she looked up at him impishly.

"What, a girl can't visit her boyfriend?" she responded. Harry shook his head good naturedly.

"Not when she's supposed to be in school." He pulled back even more until he was looking in her eyes seriously. "Does your mum know you're here?"

"What?" Ginny asked, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking one hip to the side. "You don't trust me?"

"About lying to your mum? Hell no," Harry said. Just as Dean and Sam had learned to lie from their father, Ginny had learned to lie from her brothers. Unfortunately she was significantly better because her parents didn't expect the lie like they did with Fred and George.

"Wait," Dean said bringing the two teenagers attention to the other people in the room. His cousins were glancing back and forth between the two with smirks and knowing looks in their eyes while Ellen and Jo were stoically confused."This is your girlfriend. Oh, dude, she is way too good for you!"

"And you must be Dean," Ginny responded. Harry had begun talking to his friends more frequently now that he'd gotten a phone though he hadn't talked to Ginny since that phone call after his uncle's death. They'd written letters but poor Pig wasn't made for transatlantic flights so they'd been few and far between. "Which makes you Sam."

"This is Ginny; that's Ellen and Jo," Harry added unnecessarily before turning back to her. "And don't change the subject. You may feel comfortable making your mum worry but I'd really rather not get on her bad side." Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Oh please. You could never get on her bad side; she practically thinks you're a sage!" Ginny exclaimed before dropping her arms to her sides. "And she knows where I'm at, in fact she wanted me to give this to you." She pulled out a brown paper wrapped package from inside her messenger bag and handed it to Harry as well as several others. "This one's from the twins, and here's Hermione's, though I'm pretty sure Ron included something as well and…oh, this is from Andy and Teddy."

Harry was carefully balancing the packages in his hands, knowing he wouldn't get a chance to open them until they got back to the car or motel."So…why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you and…well school just isn't the same without you lot there or Colin or Daphne or…I just needed a bit of a break is all," Ginny said, her voice going soft when she mentioned the names of her friends who'd died in the war before regaining strength; Harry knew she was trying to appear nonchalant but he could see right through her. Something had happened and she'd come here to deal with it.

"Well, we were sorta gonna take a case but—"

"Great, count me in," she said smiling brightly. Everybody save Harry immediately opened their mouths to reply but the younger boy nodded.

"Okay," he said simply. He caught Dean's eye and nodded, letting him know he'd explain everything later before herding Ginny towards the car. The older man watched his cousin leave with his girlfriend and tried not to let his frustration show. Harry wouldn't let her near danger so obviously he had a reason for wanting her to come. The brothers turned back towards Ellen and Jo shrugging.

"Take care of her," Ellen said simply, overriding Jo's frustrated comment. Dean nodded seriously before leaving the bar with Sam. As soon as they opened the doors, silence enveloped them. Ginny and Harry had obviously been talking but stopped as soon as they saw the brothers coming. Sam turned in his seat to face them, smiling kindly.

"So how'd you get here anywhere?" he asked. Ginny got comfortable, her brown eyes darting around the car curiously. Her father had rebuilt the Ford Anglia but she'd never been in a car entirely muggle.

"Portkey," she responded lightly. Harry hadn't exactly explained magical forms of transportation besides flying and apparation so both brothers were looking sufficiently lost.

"It's an object that transports a person long distances, mainly for people who are underage, don't have access to a floo network or are too far to fly," Harry explained easily before turning to the girl beside him. "Did you use a ministry approved one?" Ginny gave him a look.

"Do I look like an idiot?"Ginny shook her head. "My dad made it for me as well as another one for the trip home. You would not believe some of the idiots that are working there. I'm pretty sure Stan Shunpike is still dealing with legal issues due to the war."

"I thought Kingsley was taking care of everything?" Harry asked. "The least he could do is get Stan off; he was no more a Death Eater than I was."

"He may be minister but it's the system that needs to change," Ginny said conversationally. "Unfortunately it's slow going; most of the old laws are difficult to overturn and purebloods still don't want to give up what little power they have. Dad's been frustrated with some of the members of the Wizengamot." Harry sighed irritated with the government. He knew the old ministry had been inept but he figured it'd get better. From the way Ginny was talking though, it hadn't.

Neither Sam nor Dean were particularly comfortable with the teenagers' conversation, mostly due to the fact that Ginny had mentioned a war and an inept government which Harry seemed to be connected to if knowing the Minister was anything to go by. The overheard conversation from that case in Warren was coming back to them and they wondered if it had anything to do with this war. They considered interrupting and demanding to know about this war but they figured they'd learn more if Harry and Ginny just talked.

"Well, they're staying away from Hogwarts, right?" Harry asked.

"Kingsley's not about to make that mistake again," Ginny replied, her brown eyes wide but with a glint of steel behind them. "Dumbledore was so…pleasant, Fudge often forgot just how powerful he was. McGonagall on the other hand…" Ginny smiled and her eyes danced with mischief. "Well, you more than anyone knew how strict she could be."

Harry scoffed at her. "What are you talking about? McGonagall loved me!" Sam smirked and glanced towards his brother whose corners of his lips were turning up. It was such a Dean response that Sam almost thought his cousin was channeling his brother. "So, how's school anyway?"

"Fine," Ginny replied lightly, turning to look at his cousins. That's when Harry knew it was about school; whatever had happened it had happened at Hogwarts. He didn't think it was anything like what happened last year because Hermione and Ron would have told him but something had upset her enough to make the normally unflappable girl run. "So what's this case about anyway?"

The rest of the drive was spent discussing the case and explaining to Ginny what the brothers, and now Harry, did. She listened avidly to their stories, making few comments but simply letting them talk, smiling knowingly at her boyfriend whenever his involvement came up. This life was just so Harry and she was happy he'd found his cousins if only so that he could find hunting.

They stopped at midnight in South Bend, Indiana and as Sam helped Ginny bring the bags into the room, Dean pulled Harry aside. The younger boy was dead on his feet but he looked up into his cousin's face.

"Care to tell me why your girlfriend's comin' along?" Dean asked. Harry yawned widely and ran his hands through his hair tiredly.

"Something's up with her," Harry replied, glancing towards the room worriedly. "She didn't really give me a reason for being here and she avoided my questions about school. I think something happened that spooked her. I'll call Hermione tomorrow morning to see what's up with her."

"Do you think it's smart to bring an unstable girl who's never gone huntin' on a case?' Dean asked incredulously. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I think it would be worse if we didn't," Harry said sardonically. "Look, I saw you and Sam testing her throughout the day so I know she hasn't set off any bells. I'll keep an eye on her and it'll be fine."

"If you're sure…"

"I am." Harry grabbed his bag and shuffled into the room, ignoring Dean who watched the younger boy. For Harry's sake, Ginny better be on the up and up, otherwise girlfriend or not, Dean would take care of her if she wasn't.

**0~*~*~0**

The next morning, the four tumbled into the car and drove the rest of the way to Philadelphia. Ginny quickly realized that muggle transportation left little to be desired. It was cramped, slow and exhausting; she didn't know how Harry could stand it. Granted he'd grown up muggle and thought the floo network was a bit wonky. They arrived in the city in the evening and instead of heading for the apartment building, Dean thought it might be best to find a motel for the night, otherwise he had a feeling the young girl might start a mutiny. Not that Dean couldn't deal with a sixteen year old girl but everything Harry had said about her was coming back to him, particularly the part about her having six older brothers who more than likely taught her a thing or two. Plus everything he'd ever heard about redheads said they didn't play fair and had horrible tempers – not a good combination, especially when one was sitting in his backseat glaring daggers at his baby's leather.

After spending a night watching television, or rather watching Ginny watch television seeing as she'd never done it before, the four of them turned in for the night. Harry helped the girl set up her sleeping bag on the floor before Dean, after losing rock-paper-scissors to Sam, gave up his bed for her. Sam of course slept on the one closest to the door while she curled up near the wall.

The sun rose bright and early bringing with it a new day. Unable to convince Harry and Ginny to remain in the motel while they scouted the apartment, they made their way over. The door loomed in front of them locked tight. Sam reached into his pocket for the lock-picking kit but before he could even pull it out, Ginny waved her wand over the doorknob, whispering, "_Alohomora_!" A soft click was heard and she smiled over her shoulder. The brothers' eyes grew wide. They could tell she'd grown up with magic her entire life, the way she'd simply used magic to overcome the problem rather than consider a muggle solution.

"Alohomora?" Dean asked. Harry smiled slightly as a memory entered his head.

"Standard Book of Spells, chapter seven," he replied before clarifying. "Well, for first years at least."

"How many doors you opened with that spell?" Dean asked, suddenly seeing his cousin in a new light. Harry's smile deepened but he didn't respond.

"You know, I feel kind of bad, snaking Jo's case," Sam commented turning the conversation back to the topic at hand. He was pretty impressed with the spell. Lock-picking was his area of expertise so the fact that his cousin could pretty much open any door with the flick of his wrist made him happy and also a little jealous. Knowing Dean though, he'd be silently impressed but openly upset over Harry breaking the rules. He seemed to hold Harry to a higher standard than even the one he held Sam to.

"Yeah, maybe she put together a good file. But could you see her out here, working one of these things? I don't think so. Getting anything?" Dean asked glancing over his shoulder at the EMF meter in Sam and Harry's hands. The meter was another show of incorporation. The brothers had given Harry several things needed for hunting, such as the EMF meter and a Zippo. But the most important was when Dean had taken Harry to get his very own pistol. After looking over numerous weapons and holding a few, he finally decided on a Beretta 92, extraordinarily similar to Sam's Taurus. It was lightweight with a longer, heavier first trigger pull. Harry felt more comfortable with it hoping he wouldn't accidently shoot anything than with something with a hair trigger. Sam also gave Harry his very own sawed off which he'd made for him.

"Not yet," Sam responded while Harry merely shook his head. As Sam twisted, a shrill beeping filled the room and surveyed the area making the EMF go crazy. An uncovered light switch caught his attention as well as the black tar-like substance leaking from it.

"What's that? Ginny asked noticing where he was looking. Dean and Harry both turned towards them. Sam reached out and touched the substance, coming away with a black sticky substance on his index finger.

"Holy crap," Sam said as he realized what it was on his hand. Harry looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain but he didn't. Dean touched the stuff and the younger boy wished they'd stop. That stuff could be anything, didn't they ever learn not to touch stranger substances, especially ones that looked as though they'd come from Neville's failed potions.

"That's ectoplasm," Dean said before looking up at the other three seriously. "Well, I think I know what we're dealing with here…It's the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man." Sam rolled his eyes while Ginny smiled slightly. She didn't understand the reference but she knew it was a joke.

"That or the batter of Hagrid's rockcakes," Ginny muttered glancing at Harry who smiled. Dean lifted a brow inquisitively while Sam sighed in frustration. Great, another comedian.

"Guys, I've only seen this stuff, like, twice. I mean, to make this stuff, you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit," Sam said attempting to make them understand the importance of the situation. The words seemed to have done the trick as both his brother and cousin straightened.

"All right, let's find this badass before he snags anymore girls."

**0~*~*~0**

Harry and Ginny were following the brothers when they heard voices coming around the far corner. Dean and Sam ducked into an alcove while Harry pulled Ginny back behind him in the connecting hallway. He slowed his breathing just like Dean had showed him and concentrated on listening to the voices, trying to determine how far away they were and what was being said.

"All the apartments have been furnished, too." A male voice, possibly mid to late forties, gruff but not mean. Probably the apartment manager considering what he'd said.

"It's so spacious. You know, my friend told me that I absolutely had to come and check it out, and I have to admit that she was right. You did a really good job with this place." A female voice, young, in her twenties at least. It took him a minute to place the voice; it was Jo. Glancing around the corner he saw Sam and Dean heading towards them and decided to follow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked under his breath as Jo caught sight of them. She hurried over, sliding her arm around his waist.

"There you are, honey," she replied before turning back to the older man who was glancing between all the people suddenly in the hallway. "This is my boyfriend, Dean, and his buddy, Sam. And of course, Dean's cousins Harry and Ginny." He reached forward and Dean shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you," the older man said smiling. "Quite a gal you got here."

"Oh yeah, she's a pistol," Dean responded, smiling largely and smacking her lightly on the back to show his frustration.

"So did you already check out the apartment?" Jo asked. Everybody stared at her. She laughed nervously and clarified in a tone that meant they should have caught on. "The one for rent?"

"Yuh, yeah," Dean said catching himself and deciding to go with Jo's plan for now. "Loved it, great flow."

"How'd you get in?" the manager asked confused.

"It was open," Dean said quickly. Before the manager could respond, Jo turned the conversation back to her.

"Now, Ed when did the last tenant move out?"

"Uh, about a month ago," Ed replied a bit flustered by the abrupt change in topic and tone. "Cut and run, too. Stiffed me for the rent." Jo smiled.

"Well, her loss, our gain," she said brightly. "'Cause if Dean-o loves it, that's good enough for me."

"Oh sweetie," Dean replied again thumping her on the back. Reaching into her pocket, Jo pulled out a wad of cash, everyone's eyes bulging slightly as she handed it to the manager.

"We'll take it."

"Okay!"


	29. Part VIII: Chapter 28

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "No Exit". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **Sorry for taking so long to update, anyone who has ever worked with kids knows that spending a week with them is draining. I was too tired to do much of anything by the end of the week. If this keeps up, I might switch to updating on Saturdays instead of Thursdays but we'll see. Hopefully this chapter is agreeable to everyone. I haven't had a chance to get back to reveiws but several made valid points that I want to reply to; I hope this chapter does that anyway. THanks to everyone who reveiwed, they were generally positive about Ginny and for those of you worried about her becoming a main character, she's won't be. She has a purpose for being here but you won't find out what that is until the end. Thanks to Kirallie for going over everything. I'm working on the next part but don't know when I'll get it to you. That's about it, enjoy!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

"I'll flip you for the sofa," Jo said once they'd brought in all the bags. Harry was showing Ginny how to disassemble, clean and reassemble a gun. He wasn't about to show her how to shoot one but he figured if she wanted to help them hunt, she could help take care of the weapons. Jo was carefully laying out the research she'd acquired since meeting with the brothers at her mom's restaurant while Sam and Dean pulled out the weapons they either wanted on their person or wanted cleaned.

Dean looked up at Jo's statement, raising an eyebrow. "Does your mother even know you're here?"

"I told her I was going to Vegas," Jo replied. Ginny's brown eyes flickered up and a small smile graced at her face. Harry glanced at her confused.

"You think she's gonna buy that?" Dean responded.

"I'm not an idiot," Jo said, her stance becoming defensive. "I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos." Ginny's head swiveled back and forth between the two as her smile grew. Dean turned away from the older woman, returning his attention to his handheld.

"You know, you shouldn't lie to your mom. You shouldn't be here, you shouldn't put ideas in their heads," he finished glancing at Harry and Ginny. The younger boy rolled his eyes while Ginny simply smiled innocently before looking back down. She didn't really know what credit cards were but she had her own ways of ensuring she didn't get caught. Jo glanced at Sam who shrugged in response before turning towards the teenagers. Harry held up his hands in the universal sign for _I'm-not-involved _while the redhead didn't notice, being absorbed in her work once again.

"Well, I am, so untwist your boxers and deal with it," Jo said. "You didn't have a problem bringing your cousin and his girlfriend," she added, leaning towards Dean and lowering her voice. She didn't want them to think she was angry with them – so far the kids had been helpful and Harry was trying to make her feel included as well as Ginny; she just wanted to point out the hypocrisy to Dean. Sam broke in before his brother could reply.

"Where'd you get all that money from anyways?"

"Working at the Roadhouse," Jo replied evenly; Dean scoffed lightly.

"Hunters don't tip that well."

"Well, they aren't that good at poker either." Dean and Jo appeared to be at a standstill; both refusing to give in and admit the other may have a point. The sounds of a rock song suddenly blasted through the silence emanating from Dean's pocket. The older man pulled his phone from his pocket and without looking at the caller display, answered.

"Yeah?"

"_Is she there with you_?"

"Oh, hi Ellen," Dean replied a tinge of sarcasm in his voice. The others looked up at him and Jo hurried around the table, a harsh glare on her face.

"_She left a note she's in Vegas. I don't believe it for a second_." Ginny, Harry and Sam watched as Jo got in Dean's face and they had a silent argument. Ginny's mysterious smile returned and Harry waited for Dean's decision. He knew his older cousin was slightly afraid of Ellen but right now, he'd be more afraid of Jo. It was exactly the same as with Molly and Ginny. "_Dean_?"

"I haven't seen her," Dean responded a bit dejectedly as he realized he was between a rock and a hard place.

"_You sure about that_?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Dean said as he rubbed his hand down his face warily, turning from the others as he essentially lied to Ellen.

"_Well, please, if she shows up, you'll drag her butt right back here, won't you_?"

"Absolutely," he said trying to dredge up some enthusiasm.

"Okay. Thanks, hon." Ellen hung up and Dean turned to face the others, Jo giving him a large winning smile. Harry smirked and turned to face Ginny, raising an eyebrow. She raised her shoulders in confusion before turning back to the table as he shook his head. Of course, she didn't understand…

"What's poker?" Ginny asked innocently. Jo turned to face her and both brothers gave the older woman a look, something to do with corrupting the youth. Harry's the one who ended up responding.

"It's a card game in which there's gambling involved," he said lightly. She nodded slowly.

"So it's like Exploding Snap?" she asked.

"Yeah," Harry said slowly before elaborating. "In that they're both card games that can involve gambling."

"And drinking," Ginny added with a fond smile on her face. Harry looked at her confused. "When I was younger, during Christmas, Bill and Charlie used to get completely pissed playing it. It always provided a good laugh." Sam rolled his eyes. So much for the innocent act. Though he had to admit, this girl was good.

"Who are Bill and Charlie?" Jo asked conversationally as she set out the papers she'd gathered on the case that she didn't give Sam and Dean.

"My brothers," Ginny replied her brown eyes darting over the documents. "Bill's a curse breaker, used to work in Egypt but now he has a desk job in London. Apparently Fleur, his wife, worries less. Charlie works on a dragon reserve in Romania."

"Dragons?" Jo choked in shock. Ginny nodded before continuing to read the papers diligently. Jo glanced at the brothers before turning to Harry who shrugged his shoulders.

"They're not as cool as you might think," Harry said evenly. "Much too interested in eating people if you get too close."

"Wait," Dean said pushing the gun Harry was holding towards the table. "When were you ever close enough to learn that?" Harry's green eyes widened a little before glancing at Ginny who was refusing to catch his eye.

"Well, Charlie told me about them," Harry said taking back the gun hurriedly. "He got loads of burns and he'd tell us about where they came from. There was this one dragon, a Norwegian Ridgeback, who everybody thought was a boy but was really a girl. It was a big shock when Norbert ended up pregnant." Harry laughed slightly as he remembered the teddy bear Norbert ripped to shreds. "Actually she was—"

"Bull," Dean said breaking through Harry's ramblings. The younger boy glanced towards Sam hoping he'd derail his brother but no such luck. The youngest Winchester looked like he wanted the answer as much as Dean did. Harry sighed heavily. He hated that the brothers always jumped to the wrong conclusion about his past; sure, he faced a dragon but it really wasn't that bad.

"Look," Harry started. "There were some dragons at my school during my fourth year. They were carefully controlled by handlers and none of the students were in serious danger." Nobody looked convinced, least of all the brothers. "Can we get back to the case, please?" Dean opened his mouth to reply but Jo stomped on his foot. He glared at her but she merely shifted through the information.

"This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago," Jo began, looking at each of the others in the room, making sure to include Harry and Ginny as well. She knew what it was like to want to be a part of something and people purposely try to keep you out. Jo habitually twirled a small knife in her hand as she spoke.

"Yeah?" Dean interrupted pacing behind them. "What was here before 1924?"

Nothing," Jo replied. "Empty field."

"So, most likely scenario," Sam said before his brother and Jo could get into it further. "Someone died bloody in the building, and now he's back and raising hell."

"Or she," Harry muttered. He looked up when no one made a comment. "C'mon, it could be a girl ghost. Maybe it's a jilted lover and now she's perpetually taking her love's chosen woman." Sam and Jo considered his words for a minute and nodded while Dean paused in his pacing.

"True," Dean conceded before he began pacing again.

"Either way, man or woman, I already checked," Jo broke in. "In the past eighty-two years, zero violent deaths, unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor." She glanced behind her and leveled a hard look at Dean. "Would you sit down, please?" Harry suppressed a smirk as Dean exchanged a look with Sam who shrugged before taking a seat.

"So have you checked the police reports? County death records?" Dean asked as Jo rolled her eyes.

"Obituaries, mortuary reports and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing," Jo said.

"I think the jury's still out on that one," he said. "Could you put the knife down?" Jo eyed him before setting the knife on the table deliberately.

Giggles broke through the staring contest and the three older adults glanced towards the redhead. Ginny covered her mouth with her hand to stem the laughter as her dancing eyes shifted to Harry.

"Do they remind you of anyone?" she asked playfully. Harry tilted his head in confusion before understanding dawned on his face and he smiled. All the little smirks and smiles suddenly made sense.

"You've got to admit," Harry replied. "They're not nearly as bad though."

"Not nearly as bad as who?" Dean demanded, his hard glare focused on his cousin. Harry caught Ginny's eye and they both smiled deeper.

"No one," they said in unison. Sam, Dean and Jo waited for either to elaborate but neither said a word. Jo and Dean looked particularly interested and both appeared as though they would do anything to get the answer. Sam cleared his throat before the pair could attack the younger kids.

"Okay," he said glaring at his brother and friend until they backed off. "So it's something else then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought the spirit with it."

"Not again," Harry muttered, hanging his head in frustration. He was sick and tired of freakin' needle searches.

"We've gotta scan the whole building. Whatever we can get to, right?" Jo asked while Ginny's jaw dropped.

"Really?" she asked. "Sounds a bit like the horcrux search."

"Horcrux?" Jo asked.

"Nothing," Harry said giving Ginny a hard look. "_They're nothing_."

"Right," Dean said recognizing his cousin shutting down and refusing to talk about something. "So, you and me – we'll take the top two floors. Sam, Harry and Ginny can take others."

"We'd move faster if we split up," Jo said.

"I agree," Harry said not at all happy. Normally he wouldn't mind searching the floor with Sam but with Ginny, it made more sense to split up further. He could take care of himself and Ginny while Sam dealt with another floor.

"Oh this isn't negotiable," Dean said.

Harry huffed in annoyance. As they got to the stairs, Dean tried to catch Harry's eye but the younger boy ignored him, grabbing Ginny's hand and brushing past him. Sam caught up with them easily and walked beside Harry.

"You know," Sam started conversationally but with a bite in his voice. "Dean couldn't cut you any slack in front of Jo. It would have undermined him. I was going to let you two go on ahead but not if you're going to act like a child."

Harry's green eyes flickered to Sam's face before he sighed heavily. He hadn't felt this chastised since Mrs. Weasley had sent that howler to Ron about driving the car to school and almost getting Mr. Weasley fired. He felt bad for slighting Dean but they didn't understand; he could take care of himself and he could take care of Ginny. Sure she didn't know much about hunting, hell _he_ didn't know much about hunting, but he was good at improvising and he wasn't about to let anything happen to her. They just needed to understand he was used to leading and not following. Granted, it was nice to be taken care of and not _have_ to lead but still; it was the principle of it!

**0~*~*~0**

"So are you gonna buy me dinner?" Jo asked after they'd split up from the others. Dean had been following her pretty closely for the past hour and the younger woman was sick of his chauvinism. She was happy he didn't tell her mother about her being here but this was ridiculous.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked oblivious as he glanced at the meter in his hand.

"It's just, if you're gonna ride me this close, it's only decent if you buy me dinner," Jo responded. Dean paused and glared at the back of her head.

"Oh, that's hilarious," he replied sarcastically. "You know, it's bad enough I lied to your mom, but if you think I'm letting you out of my sight – I don't know if you noticed, but you're kind of the spirit's type." Jo rolled her eyes.

"Exactly." Dean looked up at her in confusion and shock.

"You _wanna_ be bait?" he asked incredulously. No way in hell was he going to let that happen; he'd made a promise to himself if not to Ellen that he'd take care of her.

"Quickest way to draw it out and you know it…what?"

"I'm so regretting this," he muttered. Unfortunately Jo heard him and stopped in her tracks, turning to glare at him.

"You know, I've had it up to here with your crap," she said as he paused, raising one brow.

"Excuse me?"

"Your chauvinist crap," Jo explained her hands resting on her hips. "You think women can't do the job." Dean shook his head in exasperation and looked her in the eye. They really didn't have time for this but if she wanted to do this here and now, he wasn't going to say no.

"Sweetheart, this ain't gender studies," he said. "Women can do the job fine. Amateurs can't. You've got no experience. What you do have is a bunch of half-baked romantic notions that some barfly has put in your head. And don't even think of brining Harry into this. He's been on plenty of hunts and we've ridden his ass on each and every one of them."

"And now you sound like my mother," Jo said turning back to continue on.

"Oh, and that's a bad thing?" Dean asked shock evident in his voice. "Cause let me tell you—" He broke off suddenly and trudged forward.

"What?" Jo asked pulling his arm so he faced her. He appeared to consider her for a minute but shook his head.

"Forget it," he said.

"No, you started this," Jo said pressing the issue.

"Jo, you've got options," Dean began trying to make her understand. "No one in their right mind chooses this life. My dad started me on this when I was so young; I wish I could do something else."

"You_ love_ the job," Jo countered and Dean smiled a little as he tilted his head to the side in agreement.

"Yeah but I'm a little twisted."

"You don't think I'm a little twisted, too?" Jo asked. Dean turned serious once more and turned her to face him.

"Jo, you've got a mother that worries about you, who wants something more for you. Those are good things. You don't throw things like that away. They might be hard to find later." He walked away before she could respond.

**0~*~*~0**

Harry fell back to walk beside Sam and Ginny smiled slightly. He couldn't stand to have people angry at him that he actually liked so it was only a matter of time before Harry tried to make amends with Sam and Dean. His older cousin didn't say a word and silence except for the beeping of the meter filled the halls. Harry glanced up at the taller man and cleared his throat. Sam still didn't look at him but Harry knew his cousin was listening to him.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly.

"It's not me you need to apologize to," Sam replied. Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"It's just…it's not fair," Harry burst out suddenly. "If Jo weren't here, Dean wouldn't be acting like this. He's treating me like a child."

"You are his child," Sam responded, the words rolling off his tongue as easily as they had his father's. Several months ago those very same words had nearly infuriated Sam but now he understood them. His father was making so much more sense now that Harry was riding with them and the yearning to talk to him, to apologize, one last time grew daily within the youngest Winchester. "Dean sees you as a child under his care, no matter how old you get. He does the same thing to me." Harry raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Sam laughed. "Really, when I was seventeen, my brother drove me to school every morning despite the fact that I was six foot and more than capable of taking care of myself."

"Yeah that does sound like him," Harry responded.

"Look," Sam said stopping them both and turning Harry towards him. "Dean knows you're more than capable. He just…has a funny way of showing it sometimes. Okay?"

"Yeah, alright," the younger boy said knowing Sam was right. Dean was the one who made sure he ate something at every meal – even if it was only a bite or two, made sure he slept – even if it meant creating an excuse to drive around in the Impala at night, made sure he knew how to defend himself – even though Harry gave him a hard time about it. Dean was the first one to show him what it meant to be part of a family. Harry felt like he had when Sirius was alive, like he had someone taking care of him, almost like a parent.

**0~*~*~0**

Jo watched as Dean walked on ahead of her. She knew she was lucky to have her mother taking care of her but being coddled wasn't going to save her forever. One day she was going to have to live her own life despite what her mother might want for her. She started forward but stopped when something caught her eye. Looking down, she noticed there was nothing there besides an old air vent.

"What?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure," Jo responded almost whispering. Something had been there, there was something that had made her take notice but it was just out of sight.

"You smell that?" Dean's voice broke through her thoughts and she sniffed the air lightly. A strange sweet scent filled her senses and she shook her head.

"What is that? A gas leak?"

"No, it's something else," Dean responded as he continued to smell the air. "I know it. I just can't put my finger on it." Jo bent to inspect the vent and the EMF meter in her hand shrieked. Dean smiled at her. "Mazel tov! You've just found your first spirit." She looked back up at him.

"It's inside the vent." Dean crouched down next her and gave her his flashlight. Holding it steady, she watched as he unscrewed the vent and then shined it inside. Dean's face scrunched in confusion.

"There's something in there," he muttered before sticking his hand inside carefully. Dean moved his hand around until his fingers caught on something. Tugging, Dean pulled out the length of hair and held it up for Jo to see. It was blond and bloody with a bit of scalp still attached.

"Somebody's keeping souvenirs."

**0~*~*~0**

Dean had slept on some incredible uncomfortable surfaces in his twenty-seven years of life, some of the motels had beds that he was sure had been made of two-by-fours, he'd spent a night or two "camping" on the hard dirt and then there was that memorable night he slept in the car during an Arizona summer night. But the worst place to sleep was a chair, even a couch was better. There was no place to move, to properly stretch out and his back always hurt in the morning.

Groaning, Dean glanced towards the table where Jo was sitting. Last night, he'd lost the debate – rock-paper-scissors – to Sam for the couch which meant he'd been relegated to the chair. Jo smiled once she caught sight that he was awake.

"Morning princess," she said a little too brightly for his liking.

"Where're Sam and the kids?" Dean asked groggily.

"Sam went to get coffee," Jo said as she looked back down at the research spread out before her. She was twirling that damn knife again. "I think the other two are still in the bedroom." Dean's eyebrows rose comically as he sat up suddenly.

"Harry!"

"What?" came the yelled response from the next room.

"Get your ass out here." Footsteps were heard padding towards the door before Harry entered the kitchen, his messy hair sticking up violently in all directions and his face pinched from sleep. He shot Dean a look, confusion on his face.

"What?" He was wearing long sleep pants and a t-shirt of Dean's. Now that the door was open, Dean could hear the shower running.

"You've had enough beauty sleep, squirt," Dean replied, reverting to humor to cover up his worry. Jo smiled while Harry rolled his eyes. He grabbed the box of cereal sitting on the counter and opened it up, eating right out of the box as he sat beside Jo at the table. Dean made to stand when pain shot through his back.

"Ugh, my back. How'd you sleep on that big, soft bed?" he groaned to his younger cousin.

Harry smiled impishly, his cheeks puffed up full of cereal. "Absolutely amazing." Stretching his back, working out the kinks, Dean made his way towards his bag, grabbing a larger knife. He handed it to Jo as he took a seat next to her, taking the box of cereal from Harry.

"What this for?"

"It'll work a hell of a lot better than that little pigstick you've been twirling around," he said around a mouthful of cereal. Jo handed him her smaller knife and he made out three letters etched into the blade: W.A.H.

"William Anthony Harvelle," she said sadly.

"I'm sorry. My mistake," Dean said as he handed her back the knife.

"What do you…what do you remember about your dad?" Jo asked as she took a handful of cereal and began to put a few pieces in her mouth much more daintily than the boys had done. "I mean, what's the first thing that pops into your head? C'mon, tell me." Dean slowly chewed his food, the first time Harry had seen him do so since meeting him, and considered his next words carefully.

"I was six or seven. And, uh…he took me shooting for the first time. Bottles on a fence – that kind of thing. I bull's-eyed every one of 'em. And he gave me this smile, like…I don't know." Dean's green eyes shined with memory before he shook himself and took back the cereal box.

"He must have been proud," Jo said fondly.

"What about your dad?" Dean asked.

"I was still in pigtails when my dad died, but," Jo began, smiling as she thought of her father for the first time in what felt like years. "I remember him coming home from a hunt. And he'd burst through that door like…like Steve McQueen or something. And he'd sweep me up in his arms, and I'd breathe in that old leather jacket of his. And my mom, who was sour and pissed from the minute he left – she started smiling again. And we were…we were a family…You wanna know why I wanna do the job? For him. It's my way of being close to him. Now, tell me, what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Dean responded quietly.

" How about you Harry? What's your first memory of your parents?" Jo asked turning towards the younger boy. He glanced up from the box of cereal he'd snaked from Dean and swallowed deeply. He appeared to consider it for a minute before speaking.

"My first memory? It was…" His eyes got round and he looked away. "Nothing. I was too young to form memories when they died."

Silence enveloped them. Jo appeared quite taken aback.

"I'm sorry," she said. He shrugged in response.

"It's alright, you didn't know." Silence enveloped them except for the crunch of the cereal as the box was passed back and forth. It was broken by Sam hurrying in, his breathing a little heavier but his hands empty.

"Where's the coffee?" Dean asked.

"There are cops outside," he responded. "Another girl disappeared."

**0~*~*~0**

As they were climbing the stairs from talking to the police and checking out the girl's apartment, Dean turned to Harry. "You wanna tell me the real story?" Harry glanced up at him confused. "You fed Jo a load of bull earlier. I know you remember. You can tell me if you want." Harry stared straight ahead and for a minute Dean didn't think he'd respond.

"I remember their deaths, that's my first memory of them," Harry said quietly, almost too quietly for Dean to hear. "I remember my dad screaming and my mom pleading for my life. And laughter. I remember laughter after it happened."

Dean did something he rarely if ever did, though he seemed to be doing it more since meeting Harry; he pulled him into a one armed hug. Not only did the younger boy not flinch or draw back in teenage rebellion, he leaned into it. And Dean realized something vitally important about his cousin. He needed contact, physical contact, most likely due to his childhood. Unlike Sam and Dean who hadn't had the most caring childhood, they at least had each other. Dean held Sammy after a nightmare or comforted him when their father didn't make it home for a holiday. But Harry had no one but himself for ten years.

The older man pulled back, clearing his throat and staring straight ahead after his startling revelation. Harry caught his eye and smirked slightly at him. Dean shook his head before grabbing him into a headlock and roughing up his hair. Harry pushed uselessly at him, his laughter filling the hall. Dean pushed open the door. Sam, Jo and Ginny glanced at them; small smiles graced their faces while Sam added the predicted eye-roll as well. He eventually released him and Harry darted away, unnecessarily attempting to smooth his hair.

"Teresa Ellis," Dean said still smiling. "Apartment 2F. Her boyfriend reported her missing around dawn."

"And her apartment?" Jo asked.

"Cracks all over the plaster," Harry replied as he took a seat next to Ginny. "Walls, ceiling. There's ectoplasm too."

"Between that and that tuft of hair, I'd say this sucker's coming from the walls," Sam said.

"Yeah but who is it?" Ginny asked. "Nothing you lot have told me about ghosts is pointing definitively to anybody. No violent deaths have happened in this building."

"Maybe we're looking in the wrong place," Jo said as she looked over a photo. It was of the empty field that had been here before the warehouse.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked as he sat across from her.

"Check this out." She slid the photo over to him and the brothers both looked it over.

"An empty field?" Sam asked not seeing the relevance.

"It's where this building was built," Jo explained before pointing out what had caught her eye. "Take a look at the one next door. The windows."

"Bars," Sam said under his breath. Dean narrowed his eyes as he saw what the others saw before lifting his head and glancing around the table at the others.

"We're next door to a prison?"


	30. Part VIII: Chapter 29

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "No Exit". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **Okay, so this was supposed to be out on Thursday but I got held up and this weekend I didn't have internet which is why I'm updating now. Sorry for the incrediably long wait, I've been dealing with some family issues - my dad's been in and out of the hospital for two weeks after my eight month old kitten bit him and my brother in the Navy decides to confide in me that he's surprising my parents by coming home on leave - needless to say, I've been a bit busy. I hope this chapter more than makes up for it. Thanks for all the reviews, they're greatly appreciated in helping me write this story. Thanks to my wonderful beta, Kirallie. Lastly, Happy 4th of July to anyone who celebrates it and Go Germany! (sorry all you Spain fans, they've been my team since the US got knocked out...)

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

"Thanks, Ash," Jo said into the phone. After finding out the building next door was a prison, Jo decided to call Ash to get him to look up information for them. Sam could have easily gotten it but the hacker would get it faster and they didn't really have time to waste. "That's right, I will – with pliers." Sam, Dean and Harry grimaced and looked away from the two girls who were smirking at each other with an odd glint in their eyes. "Okay. Moyamensing Prison – built in 1835, torn down in 1963. And get this – they used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door."

"Great," Ginny muttered. "There's got to be loads of potential ghosts. I mean we go from having no idea who the ghost could be to having too many ideas."

"Well," Sam said. "Then we need a list of all the people executed there."

"Ash is already on it," Jo responded.

"So um," Ginny broke through everyone's thoughts. "After we find out who the ghost is, we need to figure out where they're buried and salt and burn their bones, right?"

"Yup," Dean said as he played with the ring on his finger before his eyes lifted to Ginny's face. It was scrunched up in thought and a hint of disgust as she considered exactly what he said.

"There's got to be a better way," Ginny muttered under breath. Her brown eyes glittered as she looked towards Harry. "Have you thought of magic to get rid of ghosts?"

"Magic?" the older boy asked raising a dark brow. To be truthful, he'd never considered magic. Ever since he'd started traveling with Sam and Dean he'd grown used to doing things the muggle way, at least with regard to hunting. When they'd gone against Mitch, it was different; he'd been a wizard and he needed to be taken out by wizarding means. Granted Dean proved that it was just as possible to take care of wizards with muggle weapons as it was with magical ones but the point was Harry wasn't mixing his two worlds. But that wasn't who he was. He was a wizard and a Winchester, and it was time he started acting like it. "I didn't know there were magical ways to get rid of em."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course there are magical ways to get rid of ghosts!" She shook her head in disbelief. This was one of the reasons he never quite felt as comfortable in the wizarding world as he did with Sam and Dean. There was still so much he didn't know, so much he'd never be able to understand. "How do you think the ministry gets rid of unwanted spirits?"

"I think we all would greatly like to hear it," Dean interjected and Harry smiled appreciatively. Ginny shrugged as she looked towards his cousin.

"Well, I don't _exactly _know," the young girl responded. "It's not something they usually teach at Hogwarts. Too many ways students could use it to annoy the resident ghosts."

"True," Harry amended as his lips quirked into a smirk. "But then again, they don't usually teach the imperious curse or the patronus charm either." Ginny smiled conspiratorially with him, nodding. Before Jo, Sam or Dean could interrupt the teenagers, Sam's computer beeped. He pulled the laptop towards him and began to scroll through the names that Ash had emailed to them.

"157 names?" he exclaimed. Dean shook his head.

"We've got to narrow that down," the older brother said.

"Yeah," Sam agreed as his eyes scanned the screen.

"Or else we're gonna be digging up a hell of a lot of stiffs," Dean said sardonically. Sam's eyes narrowed as a name on the list captured his attention.

"Herman Webster Mudgett?" he muttered under his breath. Harry leaned forward. He recognized that look on his cousin; it was the one Sam got whenever he thinking a bit harder than either Harry or Dean ever thought.

"Yeah?" Jo asked.

"Wasn't that H.H. Holmes' real name?" Sam asked turning towards his brother. There was an odd gleam in Dean's hazel eyes as he considered taking on this particular ghost, leaning towards Sam and the computer screen.

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean muttered. He pushed his brother over and grabbed the laptop, his fingers tapping away. Ginny and Jo looked slightly impressed with Dean's computer skills while Sam and Harry shared a look. They both knew that the older man knew his way around a computer, mostly for less than practical, and more personal, reasons. They'd unfortunately both been victims to his "computer skills" when he'd forgotten to close out windows.

An old newspaper clipping appeared on the screen. The older members of the group all leaned over the screen and eagerly read while Ginny and Harry sat back in their seats. The screen was small enough and they figured that the others would clue them in when they were ready.

"Yup," Dean said as he smiled, crossed his arms and leaned back. "Holmes was executed at Moyamensing May 7, 1896."

"H.H. Holmes himself," Sam said impressed. "C'mon, I mean what are the odds?"

"Who _is_ this guy?" Jo asked. Dean and Sam stopped in their banter. They both turned towards the others; Harry and Ginny's blank looks stared back at them.

"The term 'multi-murderer'," Dean began as he got up and started pacing. "They coined it to describe Holmes. He was America's first serial killer before anybody knew what a serial killer was."

"Really?" Harry asked. "It took them that long to figure out what a serial killer was?"

"The wizarding world's been acknowledging serial killers for ages," Ginny added. "There's Gregory the Smarmy, Yardley Platt…Oh! And of course, Robert Dotson Stephenson."

"Isn't that one of the guys thought to be Jack the Ripper?" Sam asked, a confused look on his face. "You're telling me the most notorious serial killer of all time was a wizard?"

"Why do you think he was never caught?" Ginny replied. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Great," he said. "Can we get back to _this _case?"

"Well," Sam said. "Holmes confessed to twenty-seven murders, but some put the death toll at over a hundred."

"And his victim flavor of choice?" Dean picked up where Sam had left off. "Pretty, petite blondes. He used chloroform to kill 'em…which is what I smelled in the hallway last night. At his place, cops found human remains – bone fragments and long locks of bloody, blonde hair. Boy, he sure knew how to pick 'em."

"So, does this say where he's buried?" Harry asked stealing the laptop and turning it to face him.

"Well, it's not that easy," Dean replied glancing away slightly. Ginny and Jo looked at Dean confused.

"But you said…" Ginny began. Dean ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"His body is buried in town," he hedged. "But it's encased in a couple tons of concrete."

"Why?" Harry asked his face twisted in bewilderment. "I don't think even Voldemort would have done that." Everyone stared at him in shock, Ginny most of all. Harry never talked about Voldemort, ever, not even in jest. So for him to say this was huge. His cousins were really doing some good for him.

"Story goes that he didn't want anybody mutilating his corpse, cause, you know, that's what he used to do," Dean explained, trying to cover up the silence.

"You know something?" Sam asked scoffing, his smile forced to cover his shock. "We might have an even bigger problem than that."

"How does this get bigger?" Jo asked on consternation. Her nice quiet hunt had just exploded.

"Holmes built an apartment building in Chicago," Sam explained. "They called it The Murder Castle. The whole place was a death factory. They had trapdoors, acid vats, quicklime pits. He built these secret chambers…inside the walls. He'd lock his victims in, keep them alive for days. Some he'd suffocate, others he'd let starve to death." Everyone swallowed deeply at Sam's words as they thought of Holmes' victims until another thought occurred to them.

"So Teresa could still be alive," Jo said quietly, breaking the silence. "She could be inside these walls." Dean pushed away from the table in agitation.

"We need sledgehammers, crowbars," Dean said. "We've gotta smash these walls anywhere thick enough to hide a girl."

Ginny glanced at Harry, her brown eyes large and filled with worry. He grabbed her hand and squeezed gently. "Don't worry, we'll find her. It's what we do." Her smile brave but weak as she nodded at his words. Of course Harry would find her but this ghost had killed over a hundred people; Harry wasn't invincible. One of these days he was going to go off to rescue the damsel in distress and not come back.

"Okay," Jo said into her phone an hour later. "Call us after you check the southeast wall." Jo was once again searching with Dean while Sam went with the kids. Harry and Ginny were using the point-me spell but they were having little luck. Something was interfering with their magic. At least with Andy, Harry had an idea as to why but now, nothing should be blocking the spell. "Sam, Harry and Ginny are almost done with the first floor. They haven't found jack squat either." The younger woman almost walked into Dean's back when he stopped in front of her. "What is it?"

"It's too narrow," Dean explained, shining the flashlight down the tunnel. "We can't go any further." Jo shook her head.

"Let me see," she said as she attempted to slide by him into the cramped space. They were pressed up against one another when she realized he'd have to move for her to get by.

"Should've cleaned the pipes," Dean muttered.

"What?" Jo asked. Dean cleared his throat haltingly.

"I just…" he stuttered. "I wish the pipes were clean." She elbowed him as she finally understood what he'd originally said.

"Shut up!" Jo said bitingly." I can fit in there."

"You're going in there by yourself?" Dean asked incredulously.

"You got a better idea," Jo fired back. Pressing against him until he leaned back as much as he could, Jo pushed back Dean into the tighter space, clamping down on her fear. It was dark and as much as she'd claimed she wanted to be bait, she'd really prefer not to get killed by the ghost.

A few minutes later, Jo's phone rang vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out, trying to ignore the shaking of her hands and flipped it open.

Yeah?"

"Where are you?' Dean barked into the phone. Jo rolled her eyes slightly; of course he'd check up on her.

"By the north wall," Jo responded keeping her eyes open and her flash light up. So far the only thing she'd seen were cobweb-covered bricks and yellowed insulation. Jo paused once she came to large hole in the wall. "I'm heading down some kind of air duct."

"No, no, no," Dean quickly interjected. Jo could practically see Dean shaking his head in anger as he paced the length of the hall. "Stay up here."

"Dean, we've gotta find this girl, don't we?" Jo asked, breaking through his admonishments. "I'm okay." Staying on the line, Jo carefully navigated into the air duct, though it's incredibly tight.

"Alright, I'm heading to you," Dean responded. Jo made herself as small as possible as she shimmied through the space until it was quite apparent she couldn't venture any further. Shining her flashlight into the area, something dark and shiny caught her eye. As she continued to watch, Jo noticed it was oozy from the wall and a startling thought gripped her.

"Oh God," she muttered quietly, forgetting about the phone until Dean nearly shouted in her ear.

"What is it?...Jo? Jo!" Dean's voice resounded in the small space but Jo didn't have a chance to respond before the ghost appeared in front of her. Screaming, there was little she could do to fend off an attack, not in these close quarters. Jo felt cold fingers wrap around her wrist and she struggled but it was useless. He pulled her forward, smashing her head into the wall and Jo quickly lost consciousness.

Dean hurried around the corner, nearly slamming into Sam. His agitation was evident in his hazel eyes whipping around the corridor, barely taking in his younger brother.

"Whoa!" Sam shouted, taking a step back before quickly following after his brother. Dean's long strides were eating up the distance to their apartment and for once Sam was hurrying to keep up.

"He's got Jo," Dean bit out, as though he had to tell Sam but he didn't want to voice it aloud.

"What?" Sam asked shocked. "How'd that happen?"

"I wasn't with her!" Dean shouted angrily and Sam clamped his mouth shut. He should have expected the backlash. "I left her alone! Damn it!"

"Okay," Sam said quickly, trying to calm his brother. They both knew going in emotional was likely to get somebody killed. "Look, we'll find her alright?"

"Where?" Dean asked exasperated.

"Inside the walls," Sam replied evenly.

"We've been inside the walls all night," Dean said his hazel eyes flashing in anger. "If none of the other girls are there, she won't be either." The two brothers threw open the door and strode inside. Harry and Ginny were sitting at the table waiting for the brothers to get back after Dean's frantic call to meet at the apartment. Sam figured his brother would want to know exactly where their cousin was since Jo's disappearance; he knew he would.

"She's gone," Dean explained pacing the room. "Jo's gone." Sam leaned against the counter, his mind racing as he tried to figure out where she was or how to get her back while Harry and Ginny shared a look and the older boy nodded.

Grabbing his wand, Harry thought of Jo, of the happiness of finding her alive, of telling her "It's gonna be okay, we're coming." Once he firmly had the image in his mind, the words reverberating in his ears, Harry said, "_Expecto patronum_!" Prongs burst forth and pawed at the floor, the impatient frustrated emotions upsetting the animal. Dean and Sam stared at Harry's patronus, curious why he'd produced it.

"Go," Harry directed and the silver apparition cantered off. He glanced at his cousins before elaborating. "Patronuses can be used to send messages. I sent one to Jo to help her keep calm. It might also keep the ghost away as he's a protector above all else." A crash sounded and the three cousins turned to Ginny who was standing beside a pile of splintered wood that had recently been a chair.

"Sorry," she said unapologetically before gathering up some of the wood and placing it on the counter in a pile along with crumpled bits of paper. Using her wand and a softly spoken, "_Incendio_!", the pile burst into flames.

"It's for the floo," Harry said while Ginny ignored them in favor of waving her wand over the fire. "She's gonna ask her brother for a spirit banishing charm. He's a curse breaker. We just have to figure out where he's keeping her."

"Can't you just use that point and shoot spell?" Dean asked frantically."Or that aviation thing you do?"

"Point-me? Something's wonky with the spell. It's not picking up anything," Harry responded, hardly paying any attention to Ginny who was speaking softly into the now green flames. "And I can only apparate to places I've been before or can picture in my mind's eye, like to that woman from the vision. But I don't know where she is so I can't apparate to her."

"Look," Sam said before his brother could butt in. "Let's try to take a beat and think about this. Maybe we got Holmes' MO wrong."

"We better freakin' think fast," Dean said angrily. Rock music once again broke through their discussion. He slammed his phone open and snapped into it before looking at screen. "Yeah?"

"_You lied to me_." Dean felt his stomach drop when he heard Jo's mother's voice on the other end of the line. "_She's there_."

"Ellen," Dean began.

"_No_," she bit out before he could continue. "_Ash told me everything. The man's a genius but he folds like a cheap suit. Now put my damn daughter on the phone_." Dean ran his hands through his cropped hair and tried to stall for time.

"She's gonna have to call you back," he said glancing at the others in the room. Sam looked back, his eyes open and trusting while the kids shook their heads in consternation. "She's taking care of feminine business."

"_Yeah, right_," Ellen said. "_Where is she?...Where is she_?" It was the desperation in the woman's voice that made him crack, that made him falter.

"Look, we'll get her back," Dean said hurriedly, hoping to assuage her fears; however, it appeared that it only spurned them forward.

"_Get her back_?" Ellen asked, her voice nearly cracking in agitation. "_Back from what_?"

"The spirit we're hunting," Dean responded warily, sighing heavily. "It took her."

"_Oh my God_," the older woman muttered under her breath. Dean could hear the pain and fear in her voice.

"She'll be okay, I promise," Dean said.

"_You promise_?" Ellen replied coldly and disbelievingly. "_That is not the first time I've heard that from a Winchester_."

"What?" Dean asked incredulously.

"_If anything happens to her_…" Ellen threatened and Dean once again hurried to respond to her.

"It won't. I won't let it," he replied. "Ellen, I'm sorry. I really am."

"_I'm taking the first flight out. I'll be there in a few hours_." The phone disconnected before Dean could respond and he felt the frustration well up inside him.

"Damn it!" Sam stood and moved towards his brother in an attempt to calm him down.

"Don't beat yourself up, Dean," he said. "There's nothing you could have done." The older man paced nervously, thoughts racing through his head as he tried to figure out where Jo was. Harry leapt up quickly as well and grabbed his cousin's arm.

"Look, mate, like you said, we'll get her back," Harry said, forcing Dean to see the truth in his eyes. He stood there for a minute, staring into Harry's green eyes and knew the younger boy was serious, more serious than he had ever seen him. Dean turned back to Sam.

"Tell me you've got something," he said.

"Maybe," Sam said as he returned to his laptop and began to tap away at the keys. "Look. If you look at the layout of the Holmes Murder Castle, there's other torture chambers inside the walls, right?" Dean sighed before walking towards the computer and looking at the screen.

"Right," he replied for the sake of saying something.

"But there's one we haven't considered yet," Sam said as he glanced up at his brother. "The one in his basement."

"This building doesn't have a basement," Dean said confused where his brother was going with this.

"You're right. It doesn't," Sam agreed as he turned back and tapped a few keys. "But I just noticed this – beneath the foundation, it looks like a part of an old sewer system. It hasn't been used for—"

"Let's go," Dean interrupted before turning to Ginny. "You got the damn spell yet?"

Ginny extinguished the fire and nodded. "Yeah, I just need to grab something." She ran towards the packages for Harry that were sitting on the table, quickly sorting through them until she found the one she wanted. Ripping off the paper, she quickly opened the box and scanned its contents. She grabbed a medium vial of grey, thick viscous liquid. Harry recognized it immediately as polyjuice potion.

"Why do we need that?" he asked as she strode over to the boys and they began making their way to the sewers, foregoing the point-me.

"Cause I'll be using it to turn into Jo to lure the ghost out," Ginny responded lightly. Harry sharply turned to look at her, grabbing her arm to face him and grounding to a halt. The brothers didn't notice until they were several feet ahead.

"What do you mean you're going to turn into Jo?" Harry demanded. "What, as bait?"

"Look, we need the ghost to manifest itself for the spell to work and blondes draw it out," Ginny explained quickly, knowing they were short on time. "Jo can't properly defend herself but I can; I'll have the spell."

"Then I'll do it," Harry said, his eyes flashing with emotion. "Gin, you've never faced a pissed off spirit before and this one isn't the one you should practice on. No, I can't let you do this!" She held his stare for a second before huffing in anger. She knew she didn't have a hope in hell of actually being used as bait but she figured she'd at least try.

"Fine," she said slapping the vial into his hand. "But if you get hurt, so help me, I will kill you myself!" They started forward again; Dean and Sam gave them looks as they suddenly saw their cousin in a new light. This Harry took charge, was more adamant and assertive when it came to Jo and Ginny's safety. They'd seen it first with the Anderson case but they were so worried and angry about him taking off it didn't become apparent until now.

"What does the vial do?" Dean asked as they slammed down the stairs.

"Polyjuice potion turns the drinker into another person for an hour," Harry explained. "Physically I'll look exactly like Jo once I drink it."

"What if he doesn't show up after an hour?" Sam questioned.

"Hermione's been tinkering with the potion," Ginny said before Harry could respond. "This one lasts up to twelve hours. After we're done, there's an antidote upstairs; I forgot to grab it."

The stench was what first woke her up. It was overpowering and horribly rank, tickling her nose and bringing her back to the land of the living. Jerking awake, Jo took several deep breathes despite the smell. She brought her hands up towards her face before running them along the sides of her prison, taking stock of her surroundings. It was a long metal tube as far as she could tell with very little room for her to move but just to be sure, she shined her flashlight down and it confirmed her fears. Feeling tears prick her eyes, Jo brought her left hand up to her face and tried to keep her emotions under control. Suddenly a noise startles her and she turned as much as possible and peered out of a small slit in the side of the tube.

"Hello?' she called out nervously.

"Is there anybody there?" a hesitant voice called out. Jo felt relief flood her system when she realized that she'd found the missing girl.

"Your name's Teresa?" Jo responded. She couldn't see much outside her chamber but it appeared that Teresa was in anther chamber across from her, if the sound was anything to go by. She could tell that there was a large open space with other chambers around the outer edge.

"Yeah," the female voice called back. It was scared and doubtful as Jo attempted to make her feel better.

"This won't make you feel better," Jo began. "But I'm here to rescue you." It didn't seem to work.

"Oh God. He's out there, he's gonna kill us!" Jo took several deep breaths before replying.

"No, he won't," she said strongly, hoping if Teresa believed her, maybe she'd believe it herself. "My friends are looking for us, they'll find us." Both women fell silent when they heard footsteps echoing throughout the tunnels, the sound bouncing off the old sewage system.

"Oh God, it's him!" Teresa said desperately and Jo felt a tinge of frustration mix with the fear and apprehension flowing through her system.

"Shh! Just be quiet." Silence followed Jo's words. The waiting was excruciating as the girls held their breaths. Jo knew the ghost was likely to not just ignore them but one could hope. A few seconds passed and Jo let out a sigh of relief. Just as she relaxing, a ghostly hand suddenly slipped inside her chamber and gripped her hair tightly. Screaming, Jo struggled but this only caused the pain to increase as she felt the ghost pull out a chunk of her hair.

Sonofabitch! That freakin' hurt. Tears leaked from Jo's eyes as she rubbed her scalp soothingly, trying not to let the situation completely overwhelm her. Okay, so she was kidnapped and trapped by the ghost. That wasn't so bad. She found Theresa and the brothers were on their way. As long as she stayed calm and didn't let this bastard do anything to her or Theresa, they'd make it out of this. They had to.

Jo squeezed her eyes shut and took several deep calming breaths. She opened them when she heard Theresa speaking to her fearfully.

"What's that?"

Peering through the slit in the chamber, Jo saw what had caught Teresa's attention. A gleaming silver light was rushing towards her. At first, the light was indistinct but as it grew closer, Jo noticed that it was an animal of some sort, a deer if she wasn't mistaken. While she should be fearful of this unknown apparition, the young blond woman felt overwhelming peace envelope her, the more she looked at the creature.

"I…I don't know," Jo whispered into the quiet of the space. The animal continued its trek towards her and Jo thought the creature would stop outside the chamber but instead it passed right through the metal to stand beside her. The light that shone brightly within and around the animal filled the chamber and the peace that surrounded Jo intensified and she knew everything would be alright.

"It's gonna be okay," the lightly accented voice that she recognized as Harry's filled the chamber. "We're coming."

"Who's coming?" Teresa asked, tears sounding in her voice.

"My friends," Jo replied weakly. "Harry must have sent the animal. He's…its complicated."

A shuffling noise broke through their conversation before Teresa screamed; its sound reverberating through the chambers. The animal turned its head before cantering off; Jo turned to watch through the slit. The deer, though if Jo was honest it was a buck if the antlers were anything to go by, ran steadfast at the ghost and bowing his head, slammed into Holmes. The ghost appeared shocked for a moment as he flew backwards before anger clouded his features. He disappeared and reappeared near Jo but the buck flew towards him in aggression. It became quite apparent that Holmes wasn't going to be able to get near the girls, so with a bellow of rage, he disappeared. For several minutes, nothing happened; the buck stood pawing the ground, his large head swinging back and forth. Jo didn't know what spell Harry had used but she felt safe and knew she just had to hold out until the brothers and Harry arrived. With the buck standing guard, Jo thought she might actually be able to.


	31. Part VIII: Chapter 30

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "No Exit". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **Here it is. I hope everyone likes it. There's a lot going on in this chapter so if you don't understand something, let me know. Its either supposed to be confusing or I just wrote it funny. Thanks for all the amazing reveiws, I haven't forgotten about them or my reviewers, I just haven't had time to go through them. I just want to say thanks in case its a while before that happens because I really do appreciate your comments. Thanks go out to my beta, Kirallie. I'm still plugging away chica but the next part's coming in bits and pieces. I guess that's all for now. See you all next week...hopefully, this summer's been crazy!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

Jo swallowed. She'd been here for a half hour at least and her muscles were beginning to cramp but she needed to remain alert. Despite the buck standing guard, Jo was still nervous. She closed her eyes and drew several deep breaths into her lungs like her dad had taught her to do when she was little and scared of the monster under her bed. He'd sit with her, count to ten and helped her to slow her breathing in order to stave off the fear of the unknown. Even after he'd died, she still used that technique when she was afraid.

Once she was suitably calmed, Jo opened her eyes and glanced through the slit at the silver buck. A ghostly face filled her vision and Jo held back a scream so she didn't alert Teresa to the situation. "You're so pretty…so beautiful." She could see the buck cantering towards her but she knew Holmes could only be subdued by him for so long.

"Go to hell," she muttered viciously. His hand stuck through the chamber and began feeling his way up her body. Feeling sickened, Jo stabbed him with her knife and the ghost dissipated. "How do you like _that_? Pure iron, you creepy-ass son of a bitch!"

"Is he gone?" Teresa asked quietly.

"I don't know," Jo responded just as quietly. "I—" Hands stuffed themselves back into her chamber but before they could do anything more than they had last time, the buck slammed into Holmes and the two of them swirled around each other in a battle of hazy smoke. The buck's silver light mixed with the ghost's more grayish transparency as they hit and smashed each other.

"Hey!" Jo felt a breath catch in her throat when she heard Dean's voice. A loud blast filled the cavern and silence followed. "Jo?"

"I'm here," she called relief flooding her system. She heard a softly muttered British voice and then her chamber opened. Dean reached in and grabbing her hand, pulled her from her prison.

"You alright?" He asked once she was out. Nodding, Jo glanced towards Teresa's chamber and saw Sam and Ginny help her out. The other blond woman was scared out of her mind but she was watching them trustingly.

"Been better," Jo responded as she turned towards the exit. "Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back." Dean grabbed her arm stopping her.

"Actually, I don't think you're leaving here just yet," he said. She looked towards the others and Harry and Ginny looked particularly guilty.

"What?"

"Remember when I said you being bait was a bad plan?" Dean asked hesitantly. "Now it's kind of the only one we've got."

**0~*~*~0**

Harry sat in the middle of Holme's torture chamber, his long blonde hair framing his face. It was fairly off to be inhabiting a female body, especially one that he was fairly certain his cousin had a thing for. He'd blushed bright red as Ginny had transfigured his clothes to look like Jo's, keeping his hands firmly at his side to keep them from wandering aimlessly, Ginny had shown him the spell and the others had been adamant that they'd be right outside if he needed them., including Jo even though she'd just been kidnapped.

The younger boy felt his wand resting against his forearm. He'd taken to carrying it in his back pocket again despite Moody's warning, though he wanted to get a holster for it so it wasn't as obvious. Right now though, he had it shoved up his shirt sleeve so it wasn't quite as obvious to the ghost what was about to happen to him.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Harry forced himself to relax, making him appear as innocent and helpless as possible. He tried to get used to the new body he was in but it felt awkward and he knew he'd have to be more comfortable than he currently was in order to not trip over his feet when the ghost arrived.

Just as Harry was growing a tad bored simply sitting there, a noise sounded behind him. Twisting around suddenly, the young boy scrambled away just as Holmes surged towards him, his hands outstretched. Pulling his wand from his sleeve, Harry fell into a defensive stance. He tracked the ghost with his eyes. Holmes' face was twisted into a look of confusion and anger that his victim wasn't as compliant as he thought.

Knowing his cousins wouldn't want him in danger any longer than was necessary, Harry decided to simply try the spell and send this ghost to wherever the hell it was that ghosts went to. Waving his wand in an intricate manner in the direction of the ghost, Harry watched as a bluish light encompassed Holmes. Screaming in rage, Holmes twisted as he attempted to get away from the swirling light.

"_Expulsum nex spiritus_!" Harry shouted and watched as the effects of the spell started to work. The blue light that had previously shrouded him in wispy clouds suddenly seeped into the transparency of Holmes, converging in the center of the ghost's body. Since the light wasn't holding him back, Holmes urged forward towards Harry.

"Harry!" Dean's voice cut over the sound of Holmes' anger. Harry shook his head and saw his cousins and Jo pull themselves back. Dean was gripping his shotgun tightly, his knuckles white and his hazel eyes sharp. The younger boy could see in the quick look that neither of his cousins were particularly happy with the situation. Hoping they would understand, Harry told them with his green eyes that he was fine. Dean glared back to let him know that he understood and didn't believe him for a second.

A bellow of fury suddenly gained the group's attention. The light that had slowly been diminishing in size suddenly exploded outward, sending Harry sliding back into the walls of the area. Banging his head against the metal, the young boy watched in slight pain as the ghost writhed in pain before it expanded. Ultimately the ghost's essence couldn't contain the strain and Holmes blew apart in transparent clouds. If he'd been flesh and blood, his body parts would have been splattered across the chamber. Harry took several deep breaths as he stared at the place where Holmes had been before exploding into little ghostly bits then turned his attention to the group huddled in the doorway. Dean and Sam were looking suitably impressed while Jo swallowed in shock. Ginny looked the most nonplussed though she smiled and her brown eyes danced in appreciation.

"You lot alright?" Harry asked as he edged around the chamber despite the fact that the ghost was gone…hopefully. Each of the others gave him a look.

"Are we…_are we alright_?" Dean asked incredulously, his voice rising a bit unnaturally. He stormed towards his cousin and looked like he either wanted to hit him or hug him. Pointing a finger dramatically at Harry, he continued. "You are so not doing that again!" The younger boy glanced at Sam who shared a smirk with him despite the worry in his brown eyes. "C'mon."

Harry followed the three older members as he walked with Ginny from the tunnel. "What happened to Teresa?"

"She was a bit distraught," Ginny replied. "Sam went with her to hospital to get checked out. I had Socks follow them to keep her calm. She said she wouldn't say anything, not that anyone would believe her, but I think she just wants to put this behind her."

"Makes sense," Harry said. "So she's alright, then?"

"As far as I can tell," said Ginny. "How are you?"

"Fine," Harry responded. "Taking out a ghost of a psychotic serial killer is always an enjoyable experience."

"At least the spell worked," Ginny said smirking lightly. Harry turned to her smiling.

"At least the spell worked," agreed Harry.

**0~*~*~0**

Jo, Sam and Ginny were walking ahead of Dean and Harry who were pointedly not talking about what happened. Sam recognized his older brother's need to do his over-protective older brother thing so he dragged Ginny and Jo ahead of them.

"So," he started conversationally. "Is this job as glamorous as you thought it would be?"

"Well," Jo hedged as she smiled at the other two. "Except for all the pee-your-pants terror…yeah. But that Teresa girl is gonna live a life 'cause of us. It's worth it, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Yeah, it is."

Ginny smiled as she glanced towards Jo. "You sound like Harry."

"Yeah?" Jo asked.

"Yeah," Ginny said nostalgically. "He's always doing the right thing because it's the right thing to do, you know. Hermione once said Harry has a saving-people-thing."

"Really?" Sam asked, his face a mask of confusion as he glanced towards the younger girl.

"Oh, definitely," Ginny said. "You didn't know?"

"Well, yeah," Sam responded. "I mean, I know he's got a…a _saving-people-thing_, but I don't know. I guess, he's just my little cousin and I wish he didn't need this thing."

"Guess you know how your brother feels, huh?" Jo asked as she bumped his shoulder. He smiled knowingly.

"Yeah, I'm starting to," Sam responded.

**0~*~*~0**

They returned to the apartment heaving a collective sigh of relief that this particular ghost was laid to rest and everyone was okay. Harry made a beeline for the packages, rifling through the one that Ginny had previously torn apart, and pulled out the vial. He held it up and Ginny nodded. Uncorking it, the younger boy swallowed the potion in one go and felt the change begin to take place. Once he was back to being him, Harry fell back onto the couch and closed his eyes briefly. Ginny sat down near his head and began to play with his hair absently.

"I should be getting back soon," she said quietly. The brothers and Jo glanced at each other as they began edging away from the pair.

"So you're alright, now?" Harry asked, opening his eyes and looking up at her imploringly. She looked out the window but still carded his hair.

"Yeah, I…I just needed a break," she said faintly. "It's hard to explain…Everything was changing so quickly, I felt like I had no control. My brother was dead, my friends were dead and I couldn't do anything! You were gone, Ron and Hermione were gone. It was all changing so fast and I…I got scared." She paused, trying to control her breathing and fluttering her eyes as tears sprang to her brown eyes. Harry didn't move, didn't try to comfort her, just let her talk through her problems. He understood her fear, the overwhelming emotion that could just creep up on a person and nearly strangle them when it all became too much. "I was never scared before, not in the Chamber, not last year, not even when I was fighting Bellatrix…but all of a sudden, I was terrified. Too much had changed, too many people had left me and I didn't know what to do. I had to leave, had to go to the one person who was constant in my life. You were always there for me – even when I didn't know you, you were there. "

Harry sat up abruptly and took her hands in his. "Ginny, I will always be there," he said. "You know that right?" She smiled at him and put one of her hands on his cheek before pulling back slightly.

"No, you won't," she said softly. "I mean, yeah, you probably will, but…"

"What?"

"Harry, I love you," Ginny replied. "I will always love you but you've made me realize that change is okay, that I don't have to be afraid of it. I was so upset because I…everything was changing but I felt like I wasn't, like I had been left behind, forever haunted by their ghosts." Ginny stopped and looked away before closing her eyes and shaking her head. She turned back to Harry and smiled slightly. "But seeing you with them, doing what you do, I've never seen you so happy, so at peace with yourself. This is where you belong. Change is a good thing."

"But we can still be together," Harry said vehemently, holding her hands tightly afraid she was going to leave him then and there.

"We will always be friends but Harry, when was the last time we talked, the last time we saw each other, the last time we kissed?"Ginny asked gently, still smiling softly.

"I love you," Harry tried again. How could Ginny break up with him? Sure they hadn't seen each other in a while and okay, they weren't talking as much as they used to but they loved each other, they cared about each other, wasn't that enough?

"But we're not _in_ love," Ginny replied. Harry stared into her brown eyes and considered what she was saying and knew she was right. He did love Ginny, he did care about her and worried about her safety but it was okay when they weren't together, it was okay when they didn't talk for months on end. It wasn't fair to either of them to hold onto each other because they were afraid to let go.

"I guess we're not," Harry said softly biting his lip nervously. She ran her finger along his lips, pulling at it until his teeth relinquished his lip. She released a breath and they shared a smile. "You know, you didn't have to embrace change so enthusiastically."

"Well, I never do things half-arsed," she replied. "Besides, I need to stop living in the past and start looking to the future, accept what I can't change and move on." Harry nodded seriously but with a smile in his eyes.

"So…" the older boy replied as he leaned back on the couch, his hands linked behind his head.

"So…"They caught each other's eyes and began laughing. After a few minutes the laughter subsided and they sat next to each other on the couch, leaning into the other. They were close, had grown closer during their relationship but as soon as they'd "officially" broken up, it was as though a dam had broken between them and they were just close friends again, as if nothing had changed after all. "You want to open your presents now?"

They scrambled off the couch and hurried towards the table where his packages were set. Dean caught his eye and raised a brow questioningly. Harry smiled and nodded. He was okay. She was right; change could be a good thing. He had his family and was doing something he loved, though it wasn't what he thought it would be or who he thought it would be with. Ginny finally looked like she was at peace with herself, like she realized she couldn't run from her problems and had finally accepted what had happened in her life. She may not have been moving forward before but she would now.

Ginny handed him the one from Mrs. Weasley first and he smiled once he saw what in the package. Several meat pies and some homemade fudge as well as a knit sweater and a couple pairs of gloves were all nestled together under a handwritten note from her. Harry put the letter in his pocket for later reading when he was alone before glancing at his cousins and laughing. Dean was eying the food longingly while Sam was trying to hide his awe at the spellwork involved in keeping everything fresh.

"Don't worry, she always sends enough to share," Harry reassured before opening Hermione and Ron's joint gift. Some potions and spellbooks that he'd asked for were packaged with their letters and a few photos that he quickly scanned. They looked like they were enjoying themselves and he was glad they were finally together. He decided to save the twins' gift for when he was alone, not wanting to show his cousins the arsenal at his disposal if they ever got into a prank war. Andy had sent another letter and some pictures of Teddy, who was getting unbelievably big, as well as a wizarding camera. He'd never even considered getting a camera but he figured his friends and family back in England would want to see what he'd been up to.

"Oh, before I forget," Ginny quickly hurried to her messenger bag and pulled out a book and handed it to Sam. "Hermione thought this might help you." The older man flipped through the book and his eyes lit up in excitement.

"This is perfect," he said. Harry glanced over his arm and saw that it was a book on demons. Figures the two of them would be talking about demons, they were like two geeks in the proverbial pod.

"Also, Hermione wanted to me to ask you when you wanted her to send you the sword?" Harry looked at her in confusion.

"What sword?" he asked.

"Gryffindor's sword," Ginny replied as though it was obvious. "You know of any other sword?"

"Why would I want—" Harry's green eyes grew round and a large smile split his face. "Of course, why didn't I think of it before! Hermione, you're a genius!"

"Umm, what sword?" Jo asked. Harry turned towards her and noticed that all of them were lost.

"The sword that can hopefully kill the demon," Harry replied. Immediately, the brothers leaned forward excitedly, interest in their eyes.

"You have a sword that can kill demons and you're just now telling us?" Dean asked incredulously with a hint of anger.

"Well, I forgot about it and I'm not sure if it'll work but if Hermione thinks it will, then it probably will. She's smart like that."

"How does it work?" Sam asked.

"Ever heard of a basilisk?" Harry replied with a question. Sam nodded slowly, not sure what this had to do with the sword. "Well, basilisk venom is incredibly poisonous, believe me. The sword of Gryffindor is goblin-made, which means that it imbibes only that which strengthens it. So, if it was used to kill a basilisk, the sword would imbibe the venom and could be used to destroy other things, such as souls. If that gun can kill a demon, why can't a sword infused with basilisk blood?"

Dean nodded, considering his cousin's words. If this worked, they might not need to look for the gun any longer.

"Well, now that the packages and message has been delivered, I guess it's time I headed home," Ginny said grabbing her bag from the table and pulling out a crushed soda can.

"Guess so," Harry said. "Tell Hermione to call me when she gets a chance and I'll let her know where to send it." Ginny nodded and pulled Harry into a hug. "You sure you're alright?" She nodded again and smiled. Although she didn't look any different, there was something about her that told him she'd turned a corner in her life and she was going to be just fine. The two friends stood for a second in companionable silence before parting.

"It was nice meeting you," Sam said holding out a hand for Ginny. She shook it with a smile. The two girls hugged briefly and Dean smiled as Ginny turned towards him.

"If you're ever in the neighborhood," he said and she nodded. She leaned up on her toes and pulled his head towards her, her lips almost brushing his ear.

"Hurt him and I will kill you," she told him quietly, "and I will make sure that no one finds the body." Pulling back, Ginny smiled brightly and waved at him. "I'll see you when I see you." She tapped her wand to the soda can. "_Portus_!" The can glowed blue for a second and three seconds later she was gone.

**0~*~*~0**

Several hours later, the four of the remaining members were zooming down the highway with Ellen in the front seat. Jo, Sam and Harry were glancing between the two in the front seat as utter silence enveloped the car. Dean cleared his throat.

"Boy, you, huh, you really weren't kidding about flying out, were you?" Ellen didn't acknowledge his comment. He glanced in the rearview mirror but none of them were looking his way, making sure to not catch his eye. "How about we listen to some music?" Dean leaned forward and flicked on the radio. A song flowed through the car but Ellen immediately shut it off. Dean nodded and sighed quietly. "This is gonna be a long drive."

The group entered the Roadhouse and Ellen immediately went towards the bar, ignoring the kids. Dean was uncomfortable with the older woman's silence and moved towards her.

"Ellen?" he asked. "This is my fault. Okay? I lied to you and I'm sorry. But Jo did good out there. I think her dad would be proud." Jo smiled at Dean's words but Ellen whirled to face him, anger written on his face.

"Don't you dare say that!" she said venomously. "Not you. I need a moment with my daughter – alone." Dean paused for a moment before nodding and tapping Harry on the shoulder, the three made their way toward the door. Once it shut behind them, Jo sighed as she walked forward, her stance calm. She'd never seen her mother this angry but she wasn't going to back off from this.

"You're angry," Jo said calmly. "I understand." Ellen leveled her with a glare so fierce Jo was surprised the wallpaper wasn't peeling from the walls.

"Angry? Angry doesn't begin to touch it!"

"Let's just think about this," Jo replied, trying to get her mother to think rationally about this. "Everything's okay. I'm alive."

"Not after I'm through with you," her mother said and Jo grew frustrated. Her mother was pissed but she wasn't giving Jo any particular reason why.

"Is this about me hunting or something else?" Jo asked sarcastically.

"You let those boys use you as bait!" Ellen said harshly.

"No, only my body was used as bait," Jo explained, not at all sure if she was making any sense. By the look her mother was giving her, she wasn't. "Harry drank this potion that turned him into me, at least physically and he was the bait. They kept me out of it!" Ellen's angry expression, if anything, turned more thunderous at her daughter's explanation and she left her daughter standing in the saloon before she could say another word.

Ellen stormed out of the Roadhouse, her face a stony mask. She stopped in front of Dean and with her hands on her hips, she looked him in the eye. The oldest Winchester stood up straighter, not to intimidate her but he recognized an authority figure when he saw one and his father taught him respect. She eyed him angrily before flashing to Sam when he shifted.

"You used a seventeen year old boy as bait?" she said, her voice hard and cold. Harry stared at her in shock before his eyes flickered over to his cousins. Dean was stoically calm but the younger boy could see the doubt in his hazel eyes, while Sam was looking decidedly uncomfortable.

Dean opened his mouth but before he could respond, Ellen's hand snaked out and a loud **Smack!** filled the lot. Harry felt anger well up within him and he strode forward, placing himself between the pair.

"It was my decision!" Harry said. "Dean and Sam didn't use me; I used myself. Just because I'm young doesn't mean I can't make my own decisions. In my world, I'm an adult and can decide when to use my magic."

"Well in this world, you're a minor and under their supervision," Ellen responded, not at all perturbed by Harry's outburst. "You shouldn't have been anywhere near that damn ghost! You're just a kid!"

"Ha!" Harry exclaimed mockingly. "I haven't been a kid since my parents died! I may not know much about the things you lot hunt but I've seen and done things you could never imagine. You ever been up against a fifty foot, thousand year old basilisk with nothing but a sword and your wits? You ever been up against over a hundred dementors, trying to save both you and your godfather's souls? You ever watch as your worst enemy is revived using your blood? Well, I have! I've been tortured; I've watched my friends die; I lived through a bloody war! So don't you dare stand there and tell me what I can and can't do! Don't you dare yell at the two people who have ever given a damn about me and what I want! You've no right!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Ellen brought her hand up to touch her face as though she'd been slapped. It was quickly turning red and everyone knew that for a moment Harry had lost control of his magic which had lashed out at the woman. She glanced between the three boys before walking back towards the Roadhouse. Harry turned on his heel and pulled open the backdoor to the Impala with more force than was necessary and climbed in, his arms crossed over his chest as he tried to control his breathing and his magic. Sam and Dean stared at the spot where his cousin and Ellen had gotten into it, not quite believing what had been said. Jo, who was standing just behind her mother, was looking first at one brother than another, not quite sure what to say.

"I sorry, I didn't think she'd get so mad," Jo said, trying to diffuse the awkward tension. Sam swallowed nervously.

"It's alright, Jo," he said. "It wasn't your fault."

"She just doesn't like kids getting involved with hunting," she explained, running her hands through her damp blonde tresses. "She didn't mean to—"

"Yeah she did," Dean said, interrupting her before sighing. "But she was just saying what everyone was thinking. You know how many times my dad got yelled at for doing exactly what we just did? Hell, Bobby threatened Dad with a shotgun over it!" He ran his fingers through his hair frustrated; he never thought he'd become his father. "But Harry's so damn stubborn; the only thing we can do is be there to back him up. He obviously doesn't need us but…"

"Oh he needs you, or were you listening to a different conversation than me?" Jo asked smiling slightly. "I'll talk to my mother, try to get her to understand."

"Thanks Jo," Dean said. "I'd rather not lose contacts like my dad did." He nodded at her before heading towards the car, Sam following behind him. Harry was still glaring at the Roadhouse when both brothers got in the car, not even the doors closing broke him from his reverie. After fifteen minutes of silence, Dean cleared his throat and Harry's eyes dragged themselves from the window to his cousin's hazel eyes in the rearview mirror.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Harry muttered before letting his head tip back and sighed heavily. "But I suppose you of all people deserve an answer."

"Harry, we don't deserve anything," Sam said gently. "Whenever you want to tell us, we're here." It was killing both brothers to not demand answers but this wasn't something they could push.

"It wasn't like your war," Harry began. "It was more formal that that. The bloke that killed my parents, Voldemort, he was obsessed with immortality and he used prejudices already in the wizarding world to start a war. See, some wizards believe that because we have magic, we're better than muggles. But that obviously isn't true. You were able to kill Mitch before he could utter a single spell and there are more of you than there are of us, but that's how it is. Within the wizarding world, there's also a hierarchy of sorts, with purebloods at the top, then halfbloods and ending with muggleborns and squibs. Voldemort definitely thought he was better than muggles but I think he was using the prejudices within our world to gain followers since he himself was a halfblood.

"Anyway, there was a prophecy, it…it said…" Harry took a breath and said in a monotone as though he were reciting the Gettysburg Address, "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…_

"That's why Voldemort came to my house that night, that's why he wanted to kill me," Harry continued after giving the brothers a moment to sufficiently digest what he was telling them. "The First War was during the eighties, when my parents were in school…Do you remember hearing about terrorist attacks in England during that time?"

"Yeah, it was all over the news," Sam replied.

"Dad thought it might be something supernatural but then he thought everything was supernatural as he'd only just started hunting then."

"Well, he wasn't wrong," Harry said. "It was Death Eaters or Voldemort. Anyway, something happened the night he came to my house and he…died for lack of a better word, until I was fourteen when he was reborn. The War started again though it wasn't really recognized until several months later. It all came to a head last May; there was a battle at Hogwarts. It was a war and people died, unfortunately some of those people were just kids. Colin, the bloke Ginny was talking about, he was only fifteen. He wasn't supposed to be fighting but he snuck out." He laughed harshly to himself, lost in his memories. "He always was too selfless for his own good, never had any sense…"

"So that stuff you told Ellen about…?" Sam asked.

"Not all of it had to do with the war but yeah, I did it," Harry replied. Silence followed as the boys let the conversation lull before Dean spoke again.

"So, I guess you really don't have to listen to us, huh?" the oldest Winchester said jokingly but with a hint of depreciation in his voice. Harry snorted.

"Are you mad?" Harry asked incredulously. "You really think I'm going to ignore your expertise? I may have lived through a war but it was mostly on luck, and I guess a little bit of skill. I'm not scared though; I hate being left behind when I know I can help."

"We'll be sure to keep that in mind," Sam said smiling understanding exactly where the younger boy was coming from.

"I meant what I said you know," Harry responded.

"We know," Dean said. He reached forward and flicked on the radio. A loud guitar riff filled the Impala and Harry sat back in his seat, smiling as everything went back to normal. He thought about what Ginny had said and he realized she was right. This was where he belonged. He wasn't expected to lead but they knew that he could; he wasn't expected to be a soldier but they were teaching him because he wanted to learn; he wasn't expected to be anything but himself. He realized he was happier than he had been in a long time and it was all because of his cousins. He felt a part of a family, not as an outsider looking in but truly apart of the Winchester family. And it felt good.


	32. Part IX: Chapter 31

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **Next part! I'm glad I didn't upset too many people's sensitivities by splitting up Ginny and Harry and allowing a little of Harry's temper to shine through. This is another non-episodic part and my attempt at humor. This hasn't been beta'd so any mistakes are mine. Thanks to everyone who reveiwed; you guys rock! Alright, that's it.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

**Part IX: I Solemnly Swear That I'm Up To No Good**

**0~*~*~0**

_When you hear this song and you sing along, well you'll never tell_

_And you're the fool, I'm just as well, hope it gives you hell_

_When you hear this song I hope that it will give you hell_

_You can sing along, I hope that it puts you through hell._

_"Gives You Hell" All-American Rejects_

**0~*~*~0**

Harry smiled as he drove towards Kentucky keeping both hands on the wheel and eyes on the road just as Dean had instructed him. Music similar to the Weird Sisters was blasting from the stereo, Dean's own rule coming back to bite him in the ass. It was rock-ish but also pop-y which meant the older man spent the majority of car ride swallowing the urge to plead to change the station. He and Sam had made their beds, now they had to lie in them, though Sam's seemed to be more comfortable. Seeing as Sam was clearly taller, Dean was relegated to the backseat of his own car and Sam didn't seem to have any problem with the current music choice.

The brothers had decided to show their cousin some support after his bombshell to Ellen. They told him he was in charge of their next hunt, everything from finding the hunt and driving them there, to executing the hunt and deciding how to get rid of the fugly bastard. Granted they had veto power, quickly saying no to any hunt that looked demonic and he had to at least attempt to do things the "muggle way" as Harry would say. They both knew he knew how to use magic but just in case he ever lost his wand or couldn't access it, Sam and Dean needed to know Harry could do things the old fashioned way. It was a test of sorts for all the training he'd been doing the past several weeks. That was why they were currently speeding down the highway towards Kentucky.

After a couple hours of research, Harry had found a hunt that both brothers could live with. As far as they were concerned, it looked like a simple salt'n'burn. In Brownsville, Kentucky, several teenagers went missing two weeks ago and were found three days ago in Mammoth Cave National Park severely mutilated. This wouldn't even have normally dinged the Winchesters' radar except that just prior to going missing, the three teens were part of a larger group that decided to explore a local haunted house. The three remaining teens swore to police that a ghost took their friends; however, police claimed shock was causing the wild accusations.

Harry looked into the local haunted house which conveniently had a website made about it. According to local legend, a family built the house in the early 1850's. When the Civil War broke out, Virtue Emerson joined the Union Army while his son Ezekiel Emerson joined the Confederate Army. Both men fought in the Battle of Mill Springs in early 1862; however, only Virtue survived the battle and ultimately the war. Several months after the war ended and he returned home, some of Ezekiel's friends came to the homestead and dragged his father away to the shrieks of his wife and younger siblings. He was found butchered days later. Ever since then, Virtue's ghost has haunted the farmhouse. The younger dark haired boy was able to pull up, with Sam's help since his computer skills weren't exactly the greatest, the location of Virtue's grave. It was turning out to be the easiest hunt in a while.

"Alright, so where are we going first?" Sam asked from the front seat, turning down the music. Harry considered it for a minute, knowing that even if the brothers disagreed, they'd follow his example.

"Well," Harry began. "I was thinking we'd go talk to the teens from the haunted house before going to the morgue and looking at the bodies. I figured if we were still unsure about the ghost theory, we could go out to the park and look at the area they were found. But that means more potential for getting caught by the police. This case is probably going to be crawling with them due to it happening in a National Park."

"The law enforcement rangers will deal with the investigation in conjunction with Brownsville's local PD," Sam said looking up from the notes Harry had written up for them. Normally they would print everything from the local library but the younger boy was used to simply writing out his notes and hadn't thought to print anything off. Dean leaned against the front seat.

"So what are we goin' as? FBI?" Dean asked curiously with an almost bored tone. They knew regardless of what identity Harry chose of them, he couldn't help in that aspect. Nobody would believe he was a federal agent no matter how awesome the fake badge was.

"Actually," Harry said slowly, his green eyes flickering to Dean's hazel in the rearview mirror, a slight smile playing on his face. "I was thinking CGIS." The brothers glanced at each other, confusion marring their faces.

"Coast Guard Investigative Services?" Sam asked.

"How do you _know_ this?" Dean interrupted before Harry could respond. Both Harry and Sam rolled their eyes convincing Dean they'd been spending too much time together.

"Yeah," Harry said, pointedly ignoring Dean's comment. "The Park Rangers definitely have jurisdiction but the Coast Guard investigate crimes that violate environmental laws."

"And…?" Dean prompted where his cousin was going with this.

"Well, Mammoth Cave National Park is home to an endangered species," Harry explained his lips twitching as he caught his cousins' incredulous looks. Normally they made up their cover stories as they went but Harry seemed to have taken to the leader role. "Kentucky cave shrimp." The brothers started laughing.

"So you want us to gain access to the cave by investigating a supposed violation to this shrimp's habitat?" Dean verified.

"Yep," Harry said quite proud of his cover story. He was all for improvisation but he had too much fun making it up for them. Plus it meant that Dean would have to show him how to make an ID since he knew for a fact they didn't have badges for CGIS. He was hoping he could come up with the names for them but Harry wasn't holding his breath.

**0~*~*~0**

Sam and Dean agreed it was a good plan, even the cover story Harry had come up with. Just as when they were on the wizard hunt, it was decided Harry would check out the morgue as a college student while the brothers took on the task of questioning the victims and their families. Unfortunately, they still had quite a drive ahead of them and Dean didn't have anything to occupy his time. A bored Dean was a mischievous Dean.

It officially started at a rest stop on I-29S when Dean spiked Sam's soda with several pixies sticks; the younger boy nearly turned green from the sweetness of the drink. Sam's retaliation consisted of scaring the shit out of Dean when they returned from dinner to find the driver's side window smashed. Apparently Sam brought a cheap piece of glass, neither Dean nor Harry knew when he'd slipped away to do this, smashed it and rolled down the window making it look as though the car had been broken into. Dean nearly had a heart attack and vowed retribution on the scale of the Prank War of 1995. Throughout the car ride, the brothers participated in a series of vollies which thankfully kept Harry out it. The younger boy could have easier gotten involved but while he was the son of a Marauder and friends with Fred and George, he didn't want to bring magic into the equation. Unfortunately, Harry didn't really have a choice.

Sam was the first one to bring him in quite accidentally. He turned the radio to a teeny bopper station and Harry didn't realize for about an hour. Dean took this to mean Harry was working with his baby brother. That evening Dean took the bags into the room while Sam and Harry went to Walmart to restock their ammunitions. They probably shouldn't have left the older man alone as Harry quickly realized and Sam realized too late. He tried to stop the teenager from entering but Harry pushed open the door and was doused with water.

"That's it!" Harry shouted. He stormed towards his bag, grabbed some night clothes and made his way angrily into the bathroom. Dean and Sam glanced at each other warily before shrugging their shoulders and smiling slightly. The younger boy didn't speak to his cousins for the rest of the night.

The next morning, the three boys got ready, the brothers carefully glancing at Harry, wondering if he was still mad at them. They didn't think Harry would be so angry with them; he didn't seem to have a problem with pranking others with his magic. Dean decided he was just being a stupid little teenager. C'mon it wasn't like these pranks were epic or anything! They bundled into the car, Harry graciously letting Dean drive. Both brothers settled into their normal seats before shifting and looking around the interior. There didn't appear to be anything wrong with it. The Impala looked exactly the same as it always did but it felt wrong, bigger almost. Dean narrowed his eyes and turned towards his cousin sitting in the backseat.

"What did you do?" Dean asked lowly. His baby had been messed with enough for one trip. Harry smiled at him impishly, his green eyes bright with mischief and laughter.

"Nothing," he replied innocently. The older man's hazel eyes hardened but the innocence never left Harry's face. Sam groaned slightly in his seat. Harry didn't want to get involve because he had a slightly unfair advantage with magic but both of them had prompted retaliation; Sam just realized they should have left him out of it.

"Change her back," Dean said an almost pleading note to his voice. Harry's shoulders lifted and he shook his head.

"Can't change what I haven't done," Harry said. Dean's eyes glanced around the car. He couldn't pin point exactly what was different but he knew the boy had done something to the car. Dean turned back to the front and hesitantly started the car, eyeing Harry in the mirror whose innocent smile was back.

The drive to the diner was tense as they waited for Harry's revenge but nothing happened. In fact nothing happened all through breakfast or when the brothers had driven Harry to the morgue, his fake ID clutched in his hand. He had continued to smile at them all throughout, however, which had had made them increasingly nervous. Harry had waved just before they drove off towards the first teenager's house. Dean glanced at Sam.

"We are so screwed."

**0~*~*~0**

Harry was staring at the remains of the bodies of the three teenagers that had gone missing. If he had to guess, he'd almost immediately think muggle psychopath. They were all in pieces, cut up with some large sharp object, like perhaps an axe or a hatchet. All the few visible pieces of skin on the arms and legs had scratches and deep abrasions which could clearly be seen. It looked like they had been dragged off or had fallen against rock but either way, the scratches weren't from someone's nails.

However, Harry knew better. Hatchets and axes were quite common in the 1860's, especially on a farmstead. It would make sense for the ghost to use a tool he'd be familiar with. If that didn't convince him, the EMF meter shrieking did. Harry was able to brush it off as a new piece of technology that the quite old M.E. wasn't aware of. It was definitely a ghost from the evidence he was looking at. Now all they had to do was find the dude's grave and be done with it. Granted he'd considered checking out the site where the victims were found but the evidence was so strong, they probably didn't need to even go there.

Harry sighed as he sat on the bench, playing with his phone. This was far too much like that last time that the brothers said they'd superglue his ass to the bench if he even so much as considered moving before they got there. With the pranks, Harry wouldn't put it past them either. He smiled as he considered the pranks. He'd been upset last night for falling for their pranks but he was definitely going to get back at them. Dean's poor Impala probably never had so much magic infused in it but Harry couldn't resist. His personal favorite wouldn't be activated for another several hours yet. The expansion spell should be wearing off soon. He didn't want to get into the pranks too quickly and make them realize who they'd messed with so he'd started off small. But later…well, later would be fun.

**0~*~*~0**

Talking with teenage witnesses was the worst; talking with distraught teenage witnesses was pure torture. Both of the girls kept leaning into Sam, batting their long dark lashes at him while practically sobbing their stories about the haunted house and the ghost while Dean got to talk to the boy. It wasn't that he was a bad kid but he clearly wanted to be reassured and that was not Dean's area of expertise, least of all with dudes. They were able to get enough information from them to get a description of the ghost and that he'd been carrying an axe, which apparently was how the other three kids had been killed. The man had been tall with dark hair and transparent. That was the extent of the description. It wasn't much but it matched what little information could be found on Virtue Emerson.

As they drove to pick up Harry from the morgue, the brothers decided this case was shaping up to be the easiest case they'd ever had. Things were just falling into place. The ghost had been indentified, the remains were marked by the convenient website Harry had found and everybody in town was so caught up with what was happening with Mammoth Cave that nobody was paying any attention to a couple more investigators.

The only damper on their hunt was the slight drizzle that had turned into a heavy rain by the evening. None of the boys were looking forward to digging up a corpse in the mud but at least the brothers were comforted by the fact that Harry would be doing most of the work. The younger boy glowered at them as his shovel struck the soft ground over and over again. His shoulders burned and his arms quivered but he refused to give up. He was going to dig up this damn grave even if it killed him. Surprisingly nothing popped out at them, no ghost, nothing deciding to throw them into trees or make a lot of noise to make people investigate an active crime scene. Harry wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth so he continued to dig.

Standing beside the grave, the three boys looked into the open grave, a fine sprinkling of salt quickly becoming soaked as well as the smell of gasoline wafting up at them. Harry continually tried to strike a match but the wind and the rain wasn't making it easy for him to light the corpse. Getting fed up, Harry waved his wand at the body and muttered, "_Incendio_!" The body lit in a dance of orange flames that magically repelled the water and he smiled at his cousins. His first "solo" hunt was complete and he'd pretty much done it by himself. He'd found the case, he'd researched it, driven them fourteen hours to it, he'd figured out where the body was buried, dug and lit it up. He was pretty damn proud of himself.

The two oldest felt a swell of pride as Harry smiled at them. They both knew this wasn't his "I'm gonna prank you" smile, this was his genuine and true smile. And he deserved it. He'd done everything himself, mostly, proving not only to them but to himself that he could do the job.

After letting the fire die down and covering the grave, the boys trudged back to the car, completely soaked and drenched in mud. Harry had gotten back at them by flinging dirt in their direction "accidentally." Normally Dean would pitch a royal fit about the upholstery of the car but he was too cold and tired to care. They slumped into the seats, letting their heads lean against the headrests for a minute. Dean started the car, reaching over to turn on the heat when a voice filtered through the silence.

"Boy, you better give me a proper wash if you think I'ma let you dirty me up like this." Sam's eyes snapped open in shock before turning to stare at his brother. Dean's eyes were huge and nearly bugging out of his head as he eyed his dashboard curiously. "Honestly, this mud is gonna stink me up to high heaven and you know water ain't good for leather!" The female voice was throaty but commanding and quite obviously coming from the car.

Harry snorted in laughter when he couldn't contain himself any longer. Inanimate objects have their own personalities but who knew the Impala would be so bitchy? Dean turned in his seat slowly, his eyes practically glowing in anger.

"What. Did. You. Do." It wasn't a question and Harry knew he had to answer carefully.

"Relax," Harry replied soothingly. "It's just a spell. It'll wear off eventually. It's mostly used for mirrors or paintings to bring out the personalities of the objects but I figured it would work on the Impala."

"Oh honey," the voice, er Impala injected. "You don't have nothing to be sorry 'bout. You just go on t'sleep after this hunt. I know those motels aren't nearly as comfortable as my backseat." Sam nearly choked over the phrasing while Harry blushed beat red. Even damn female cars wanted to take care of him. Dean spluttered as his car just completely undermined his authority. What the hell?

Sam turned away from his brother's glower which he had a feeling was about to be commented on when something caught his eye. "Guys, I think we got a bigger problem."

"Oh yeah, Sam?" Dean replied sarcastically, still eyeing the car nervously. "What could possibly be worse than my car talking to me?"

"Boy you better watch it."

"Oh, I don't know…that." He pointed towards the farmhouse and just visible through the rain, a figure was making their way towards the car, a large grizzly looking axe held above their head. The apparition was clearly angry with them if the flickering and weapon was anything to go by. Dean quickly shoved the car into drive and peeled out while Sam rolled down his window to aim his shotgun at the ghost.

"I thought we ganked the damn thing!" Dean shouted over the gravel kicking up under the undercarriage and the blasts of the shotgun.

"Guess not," Harry replied sheepishly.


	33. Part IX: Chapter 32

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **Next part! A memorial service, wedding and work kept me from posting but hopefully this makes up for the long break. Glad people find my brand of humor funny and yes, the talking Impala had me in stiches as I was writing it. I'm not a very good prankster so if you don't think the jokes are funny or wouldn't work, let me know. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews and my awesome readers. I really appreciate your comments as well as you taking the time to read my story. Thanks to my beta Kirallie, saving y'all from switching tenses which I love to do.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

Rain slapped at the windshield as the Impala raced down the road towards their motel and away from the not-dead ghost. Silence had descended since Harry's guilty proclamation as they tried to process everything since salting and burning Virtue Emerson's corpse. Dean was still reeling from his talking car, which he was fairly certain was channeling Missouri, and that their easiest hunt was turning into a lot more trouble. He knew it was too good to be true but he'd hoped it would go as planned. Things never go as planned for Winchesters though and he should have realized that.

"Alright, boys," the Impala's voice drifted from the speakers filling up the car. "You gonna sit'n mope or you gonna actually figure out what the hell went wrong." Despite how incredibly awkward it was to be chastised by a car, the Impala was right; they needed to figure this out.

"So what did we miss?" Sam asked tentatively. Just like his brother, the throaty rich voice definitely reminded him of Missouri and while he was normally on her good side, he knew enough to not want to get on her bad side.

"You mean, what did _I_ miss?" Harry said angry with himself for not considering other ghosts. It was never the first thing you thought of, life wasn't that easy. Sam shifted in his seat.

"No Harry, it was all our faults for not catching this sooner," his middle cousin replied. "So what did _we_ miss?" The younger boy sighed before running his hand through his hair dejectedly.

"Well, obviously something else died bloody in that house," Harry started slowly. "So we just need to figure out who and when. Police reports and obits should have that information, yeah?"

"Should," Dean said, his eyes locked on the road as the storm steadily got worse. Branches and leaves were blowing across the road and the Impala was being pushed into the opposite lane. Harry was quite happy that Dean took over driving; he wasn't nearly proficient enough to drive through a storm. "We'll go through em' tonight."

"Guess we'll have to check out the dump site after all," Harry said before stopping suddenly as a thought just occurred to him. "How is this ghost able to move between the house and the park?"

The brothers glanced at one another. "Ghosts are bound to places important to them in life," Sam explained. "Maybe this one had two places important to it, the house and the park."

"That might narrow down our original victims," Harry suggested leaning forward against the seat. Now that they had a game plan and were treating this like just another hunt, he was happy to throw out ideas. "They have to somehow be connected to both or it can't be our ghost."

"Unless there's more than one," Dean interjected and Harry felt his spirits fall slightly. Sam shook his head, sending droplets of water flying.

"Ghosts don't normally work together," he replied. "They can be antagonistic towards each other but rarely would they work together unless they were killed together but then they'd be bound to the same place, not two different places."

"Let's just go with the one ghost theory," Harry said trying to head off an argument between the brothers. "Don't want to get ahead of ourselves."

**0~*~*~0**

Since Harry was the muddiest of the three, the brothers though it prudent that he should shower first. As he was grabbing clean clothes, Sam went over to the table to grab his laptop to begin researching…except it wasn't there. He threw some papers up, checked his bag and the chairs around the table. But the laptop wasn't there. Sam was positive he'd left it on the table but they'd been in a hurry this morning, Harry had gone to the car quickly, not even waiting for them. Maybe he'd put it…unless…

"Harry, where's my computer?" Sam asked slowly. The younger boy looked up from his duffle before shrugging.

"Why are you asking me?"

"Cause you messed with Dean's car," Sam replied as though it were obvious. He felt his lips twitch thinking about Dean's car taking on the persona of a woman who annoyed his brother. "As funny as it was, messing with our stuff isn't."

"That's great," Harry said sarcastically. "But I didn't touch your computer." Sam raised an eyebrow. Harry was a master of twisting the truth so he didn't technically lie. "Did you ever consider Dean might know where it is?"

Sam jerked to face his brother who looked genuinely surprised that he knew Dean didn't know; for once his brother was innocent. He turned back to Harry but the door was already closed. Sam's brown eyes narrowed but his brother's voice stopped him.

"Did you check your bed?"

"Of course I—" Sam stormed over to his bed but stopped upon spotting the computer lying innocently on the comforter. "That wasn't there before."

"Sure it wasn't, Sammy," Dean agreed placidly. "Sure you're not just getting paranoid?" Sam gave him a look as he booted up the laptop warily. Harry's less than stellar record had him worried about what was done to it.

"At least I'm not the one afraid to walk in front of our seventeen year old cousin," Sam said caustically.

"Kid messed with my baby," Dean exclaimed pulling off his wet clothes. "Who knows how far he'd go."

About an hour later, the boys were showered, warm and dry. Sam had been able to pull up several police reports and obituaries dealing with the house. Although Harry's "test" was still in effect, he wasn't a very good hacker and left that to Sam. Plus the youngest Winchester was slightly concerned since the earlier incident; Dean was right, who knew how far Harry would go?

"Well, it looks like we've got a bit of a problem," Harry said glancing up from Sam's notes. "I haven't the foggiest idea who the ghost could be."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked from the table. Dean was sitting on his bed cleaning weapons while Harry was camped out on Sam's bed with papers strewn around him.

"There's been loads of violent deaths in the house but either they're not connected with Mammoth Cave or they've been cremated," Harry explained. He grabbed his notes and scooted off the bed. He dropped them in Sam's lap as he made his way to his duffle."Here, look."

Sam's eyes darted across the page taking the information in Harry's untidy scrawl and he was right. Nothing was pointing definitively to any one of them being the ghost. Harry held up a couple of pastries in question but Sam shook his head. Dean seemed to hesitate which caused the younger boy to roll his eyes.

"I'm not about to mess with Molly's cooking," he said taking a bite of the pastry. Dean eyed him before accepting the snack.

"What about this guy?" Sam asked circling the name and returning the page to Harry who sat across from him with his pastry. "Walter Ray Shriver."

Harry's brow wrinkled in confusion. "But he disappeared. Could be he just left town?"

"Or," Dean said, his mouth full of the sweet treat, a dollop of cream at the corner of his lips. Sam grimaced in distaste while Harry smiled, suddenly thinking of Ron. "Could be he was killed and no one ever realized. It's one of the reasons spirits become violent; they don't get justice for their deaths.

"So how do we figure out if it's him?" Harry asked.

"Guy disappeared in the 60's," Sam replied as he began to think aloud. "Talk to the people working the case or anyone who knew him." He pulled up the information on the case. "The records are in county office. We'll head over there tomorrow."

"Can I come?" Harry asked. He didn't really have much to do otherwise. Both brothers immediately agreed.

"Want to keep an eye on you," Dean said his eyes narrowing slightly as he remembered just why Harry needed to be watched. The effect was ruined however when a loud pop filled the room and in the older hunter's place sat a bright yellow canary that appeared to be glaring at the two laughing occupants.

**0~*~*~0**

The next morning, it was decided that instead of all of them going over to county, just Sam would go while Dean and Harry went to get breakfast. After last night's canary crème incident, Dean didn't trust Harry alone with his food, even if Sam was there. The older man was absolutely in shock; he was being outpranked by a kid. This hadn't happened since Sam's retaliation to the Nair prank. Unfortunately, that time their father had called an end to the prank war before it could escalate further so he hadn't had a chance to exact his revenge. The problem now was Harry was always with one of them. Plus with magic on his side, retribution options were endless. At this point, he was simply determined not to get turned into another damn bird.

Dean was sipping his coffee when Sam burst into the room, his suit coat closed tight around him. The blond eyed his brother curiously as he rummaged in his bag for something, a shirt if what he was putting aside was any indication.

"No, no. C'mon, they can't all be dirty," Sam muttered. Dean glanced at Harry who was smiling, a knowing look on his face.

"Uh Sammy, watcha lookin' for?" Dean asked cautiously.

"Nothin," came the immediate response.

"You tried to open the bag, didn't you?" Harry asked impishly. Sam didn't reply, just continued his fruitless search for a button down that wasn't white. "You did, didn't you? Oh, this is brilliant. C'mon you gotta let me see. I'm not nearly as good an artist as Dean but it wasn't that bad!" Sam's bitchface made an appearance while Dean grew more confused.

"What?" he asked. He was fairly certain he had no artistic talent whatsoever or what that had to with Sam. Harry turned towards him and he knew this prank was epic.

"There was a bloke at school whose name was Dean and he was bloody amazing at drawing. Anyway, I figured you two would try something with my stuff so I took some precautions."

"What sort of precautions?"

"The embarrassing tattoo sort," Harry responded before turning to Sam. "And there's nothing wrong with liking pygmy puffs; Ginny's got one named Arnold." Sam blushed beet red before grabbing a shirt and storming into the bathroom. After Harry explained that Sam now had a rather large tattoo of a pink fluffy cooing animal on his chest along with a declaration of love for said animal, Dean decided his cousin was evil, frickin' hilarious but evil none the less.

Because of the nature of the spell and the particular color Harry used, any shirt that wasn't a suitably dark color would show the rather obnoxious tattoo underneath. Sam was forced to ditch the suit which meant only Dean would be interviewing people today as a fed; Sam and Harry would interview them as family of the deceased. It also didn't help that the tattoo made an odd purring sound that could be heard in silence so Sam felt even more inclined to talk than usual while Harry was perfectly happy to let him.

There were only a few people still living in town who'd worked on the case, seeing as it was over forty years ago. The sheriff that had worked the case had died ten years ago; his deputy had left the town shortly after the case, taking another job in Columbus, Ohio; several of the suspects had died, moved or were in jail for something else. The only people that were still in town were one of Shriver's friends, who was one of the last people to see him before he disappeared, and his fiancé. Figuring the fiancé would probably see through the lies about his family, Dean was the one to interview her while Sam and Harry would talk to the friend.

Sally Carpenter, nee Marshall, was a spry old woman of seventy-five with short curly white hair and sharp blue eyes. Her gentle smile and welcoming nature belied the strength that was within her; when she gripped the Dean's hand, it was with a sure strong grip that would have made him wince had she been younger.

"I don't know how I can help you officer," Sally said as she led the younger man into her living room. "Tea?" Dean shook his head, quite happy to turn down this drink offer. She nodded and poured a cup for herself, carefully adding sugar and milk until it was golden brown.

"Anything you can tell me about Walter—" Sally laughed and shook her head.

"Oh, he hated that name," she said. "Please call him Ray; it's what he always went by." Dean nodded before continuing.

"Right, anything about Ray would be greatly appreciated," Dean finished as he flipped open his notebook and pulled out a pen from his suit coat pocket. "What was he like?"

Sally took a sip of her tea as she settled her thoughts. "Ray was great. He had all these ideas about what we were going to do once we were married." She smiled as a memory assaulted her. "He was determined to get away from this town and the family business."

"The family business?" Dean asked as he raised a brow. This guy was starting to sound exactly like Sam in that department.

"His family owned a renovation company," Sally started. "But he didn't want to do that; he wanted to own a joke shop."

"A joke shop?" Dean asked with a small smile on his lips.

"Yeah," Sally responded. "Ray and his friends were always pulling jokes on each other but his father didn't approve. He hated his father's business – too many tight spaces." Dean glanced at her confused. He wasn't sure exactly what tight spaces had to do with it… "It was his biggest secret – Ray was claustrophobic."

"Claustrophobic?" Dean asked. Sally nodded before taking a sip of tea.

"Terribly," she said. She went over to a side table where a plate of lemon squares was sitting. Holding the plate steadily in her right hand, she set it on the coffee table near the tea set and smiled in offering to Dean. "Please have one. You look practically starved." Dean smiled as he took a large bite out of the sweet and sour treat. "Now, Ray had an accident when he was younger, got lost in the Caves, was scared of closed in spaces ever since, though he didn't like people to know."

"Why?"

"Sweetheart," Sally smiled at Dean's naiveté. "It was the sixties in the South; men weren't scared of anything. I don't think he ever told his friends."

"What can you tell me about his friends?" Dean asked as he took another square. Sally set her teacup on the coffee table and got up again. She walked to the buffet cabinets that ran along her back wall. Pulling open a top drawer, Sally rummaged through it for a minute before taking something from it. She gave a photograph to Dean and sat beside him.

"That's my Ray," she said, pointing out a man standing second from the left. He was smiling, his hair windswept and his eyes glittering. The four men were standing in front of a large field of corn, their arms resting on each other's shoulders, smiling in the camera. "The four of them had known each other since they were boys, inseparable they were. Billy was the first one to leave after Ray disappeared; took his family up to Illinois and hasn't been heard from since. Red stuck around a little longer, nearly five years but eventually he too left. Just before he left, he apologized. Said he couldn't stay in a town where Ray wasn't." She'd pointed out each man as she said what happened to them. Her smile was genuine but sad as she recounted her past. "Only Micky stayed but he was not the man he used to be. We were all affected by his disappearance; it nearly killed me but I moved on. I guess his friends just weren't able to."

Dean recognized when a person needed a break. Smiling, he stood and shook her head, graciously accepting a bundle of lemon squares before making his way towards his car. No way was he letting his cousin near these squares, not even if he had to hide them like he did his peanut M&M's.

**0~*~*~0**

Sam and Harry arrived at Michael Sheffield's home about twenty minutes before Dean arrived at Sally's. Michael lived on the other side of town so Dean dropped the two off before heading off to his own interview. The man stood just inside his front door as the two cousins walked up, his expression wary and suspicious.

"Hi," Sam said, hunching slightly so he didn't appear as intimidating. His brown eyes softened as his smile was open but not too bright. Harry couldn't hope to imitate his cousin's natural amiability but he knew he had an honest face that people always wanted to talk to. Right after the War, people were always talking to him, some to thank him for what he'd done, others to ask him what happened in the forest but most wanted to talk about the people who had died – their loved ones, their friends, and their family – and remember them as they were.

"Can I help you boys?" Michael asked as he opened the door to stand on his porch. Harry smiled but let Sam do the talking.

"Yeah. We were hoping you might be able to talk to us," Sam said. "My name is Jason and this is my brother James. We were doing some research on our family and found out Walter Ray Shriver was our second cousin on our mother's side, once removed. Anyway, Jamie here was trying to find out what happened to him—"

"He disappeared," Michael interrupted. Sam smiled congenially.

"Yes," he said. "We found that out. We were hoping you might be able to tell us more, maybe help us solve his disappearance. Fresh eyes and all that. We were hoping that since you were his friend, you might know something that we overlooked."

Michael shook his head as he shuffled back through the door. "I'm sorry boys," he said. "That was a long time ago; I don't know anything the police didn't know." Sam grabbed the door, preventing Michael from closing it.

"Please," Sam pleaded, his eyes large. "It's our family."

"And I'd tell you if I could," Michael said as he pulled the door from Sam's grip. "But I can't."

The door slammed shut in their faces and both boys stared at it for a minute. Sam sighed before turning and walking down the walk, his cousin following him.

"He knows something," Harry commented lightly.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Did you see how quickly he wanted to get rid of us?

"So the question is," Harry said before glancing up when they reached the end of the walk. "What does he know and how does he know it?"

**0~*~*~0**

Sam called his brother, letting him know he and Harry were done and that they were going to walk to the diner. Despite the fact they finished before Dean, they only arrived a few minutes before him.

"What do you guys got?" Dean asked as he watched their waitress walk away, her hips swaying seductively. Sam rolled his eyes and waited pointedly for Dean to turn around. Harry smiled as he shook his head.

"Nothing," he replied, playing with his utensils, straightening them in the paper napkin.

"Well, not nothing," Harry interjected."We know the bloke knows _something_ but he wouldn't talk to us. You?"

Dean shook his head and shrugged. "The old lady didn't know anything about the disappearance. Kept going on about his friends and stuff. Nothing important." Tandy, their waitress, smiled as she set their food on the table, making sure to glance significantly at Dean before walking away.

"So we've got nothing…" Harry said as he dabbed a fry in the ketchup. Sam and Dean looked at each other before shrugging and going back to their own food. The younger boy shoved the food in his mouth and his green eyes grew large and began to water. Spitting out the fry, Harry grabbed his water. The minute it touched his mouth, he spew it across the table. He narrowed his eyes and glared at his cousins who were laughing. They reached across the table and bumped fists with each other.

"You spiked my food?" Harry asked incredulously. The Tabasco-flavored ketchup and salt water were a shock to his system. His tongue was still rebelling against him and he was working hard to suppress tears.

"You spiked mine!" Dean replied.

"I did not!" Harry said. "I bought them pre-spiked."

"Well, _we_ didn't spike it," Sam breaking into the conversation with an odd glint in his eye. Harry looked between the older men before turning towards Tandy who smiled at him innocently and shrugged. Harry scrunched up his face in frustration and shoved his plate away, not sure what was spiked and what wasn't.

"Oh, c'mon," Dean wheedled as he pushed the plate back towards him. "It was only the ketchup and the water, honest." He held up a fry and waved it in his face, smiling congenially. Harry intensified his glare before snatching the fry from his cousin and shoving it in his mouth. Sam smiled as he glanced back down while Dean nodded; glad they hadn't upset Harry enough that he wouldn't eat lunch.

After a few minutes of silence in which Sam and Dean glanced awkwardly around them, Harry finally sighed. "You know, it wasn't that bad…Not like what I did to you."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "You turned me into a freakin' bird!" Harry smiled again.

"Yeah," the younger boy said shaking his head. "That's not what I'm talking about." Dean and Sam's face fell slightly.

"What are you talking about?" they said in unison. Harry just continued to smile as he continued to eat his lunch, clearly much happier now than he had been.


	34. Part IX: Chapter 33

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **I'm back! So, so sorry for the long break. Life decided to have some fun with me at my expense. Anyway, here's the next part, which I hope more than makes up for the slight hiatus. I was looking at the published date and realized that a year ago tomorrow, I first started posting this story. I never thought it would have grown into what it has, nor received the appreciation you guys have shown it. I am truly thankful for everyone who took the time to read my story and doubly thankful for those that reviewed as well. There are only a few more parts left so the story will be coming to an end (but not for a while yet as each part as several chapters so...). Hope you guys have enjoyed this wild and crtazy ride as much as I have! Big thanks to my beta, Kirallie for putting up with my spastic writing style and crazy timing. You are absolutely amazing chica!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

"Pink!" Dean shouted as he stared at himself in the mirror. "You turned my hair pink!" Sam was sitting on the bed with Harry, both of them smiling at Harry's revenge prank. The older man was turning his head around, trying to see if any of his natural dark blond locks were visible. He whirled around and glared at Harry who bit his lips in an effort to control his laughter. "First you turned my car into Missouri, now my hair!"

"Well, it's not like it lasted," Harry hurried to explain. The Impala had returned to normal sometime in the night since the spell only lasted six hours. Dean had been so grateful for silence in his life, he didn't even play his music, which was a plus in both Harry and Sam's books. "This'll go away too. Promise!"

"Change it back!" Dean demanded vehemently. Sam finally got his giggles under control and stood before his brother did something stupid.

"Hey, it's not that bad," he said in a poor attempt at a straight face. Dean merely glared at him harshly. The stare-off lasted about a minute before Sam burst into renewed laughter and Harry snorted before he could stop himself. The older man gave his brother and his cousin one final look before storming into the bathroom to try and wash the pink from his hair…again.

"You know," Sam said as he sat on the bed with his laptop while Harry wandered over to Dean's bed and fiddled with the guns there. "That really was an awesome prank." Harry smiled as he glanced up. "He needed to be brought down a peg or two, especially since the Nair incident."

"Nair?" Harry asked but Sam shook his head significantly.

"So, guess it's just you and me going to the park," Harry said brightly. His cousin gave him a look, glancing at his chest then back at Harry, who rolled his eyes. "C'mon, we don't even have to be Feds."

"Well, it might be nice to have a look at the crime scene," Sam said. "I just wish we knew what was going on. I mean, that Shriver guy was looking good for it but we've got nothing to go on."

"Maybe he worked at the park," Harry tried. "Or died there."

"Unlikely." They turned towards the doorway to the bathroom. Dean was towel-drying his hair, the pink contrasting sharply with the white. It was apparent he didn't take an actual shower, probably just stuck his head under the tap and hoped the color would come off. "Dude was scared of the caves."

"How do you know?" Sam asked.

"That's what his fiancé said," Dean replied. "Apparently he got lost in them when he was little."

"So," Harry stood up and began pacing in front of the beds. "Maybe he is the ghost."

"How'd you come to that conclusion?" Dean asked as he sat on his bed, rearranging the guns Harry had messed with.

"Well, maybe he was killed at the park but nobody knew," Harry tried to explain. "That would make him doubly angry – being killed in a place he was scared of _and_ nobody knowing about it."

"I guess that makes sense," Sam agreed slightly. Dean stood up and grabbed his coat.

"The only one who knows is Micky," he said as he opened the door.

"Micky?"

**0~*~*~0**

Dean pounded on the door while Sam and Harry stood behind him, glancing at each other. It appeared that the older man was taking his anger at his new hair color out on the door. It suddenly opened and Dean pulled his fist back before he accidently hit the older man Sam and Harry had seen earlier that day.

"Can I help you?" he asked before he glanced behind Dean and saw the other two. His gaze hardened. "I already told you, I don't know anything." He began to close the door but Dean grabbed it in a move reminiscent of Sam.

"I think you do," he said dangerously as he shoved his way into the man's house. Sam and Harry followed after him quickly before the man could recover. Micky sighed heavily and shut the door then turned to face them.

"Boys, I don't know what you've heard," he began but Dean interrupted.

"Look, I've had a bad day and you're not making it better. Just tell us what you know about your friend's disappearance." The old man sat heavily on a Lay-Z-Boy near the window and rubbed his head tiredly.

"He was killed, wasn't he?" Harry asked quietly. Micky's head snapped up and he glared harshly at the younger boy before shutting his eyes tightly in pain. He nodded slowly. "Who killed him?"

"It was an accident," Micky said. The boys stared at each other in shock before considering his words carefully. "It was just an accident."

"Wait…" Dean said slowly but Harry held up his hand for silence.

"What happened?" the younger boy asked gently. Sam and Dean sat back in their seat and watched as their cousin dealt with the older man. Sam was normally the one who dealt with getting information out of people who were distraught but Harry seemed to be doing well, like he'd done it before. It might have to do with the war that he'd been a part of but he hadn't talked about it since his fight with Ellen.

"It was a prank, it was supposed to be a prank, we didn't know," Micky said, tears forming in his eyes as he looked towards Harry. Although the boy was several decades younger than him, Micky looked like the child while Harry the adult comforting him. "We didn't know."

"What didn't you know?" Harry prodded. "What happened?"

"He was scared, so scared," Micky muttered. Harry nodded slowly.

"What happened?" he asked again, this time a little more forcefully. Micky closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he regained control of himself.

"We were messing with him," Micky began. "Took him from his house, with a bag over his head, like we were kidnapping him. He was upset but calmed down a little until we took the bag off in the Caves, then he became really upset. Ray started shouting and shaking…he was so scared; he started attacking us. We didn't know what to do; we just wanted him to be quiet, to stop shouting, to calm down but he wouldn't. Billy covered his mouth until he stopped moving."

"You kill—"

"It was an accident!" Micky said vehemently. "He didn't mean to."

"So where's his body?" Harry asked quietly. "Where did you bury him? Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"We were scared," Micky said quietly. "We didn't bury him."

"So where'd you put him?" Harry asked confused, glancing at his cousins who were just as lost. Tears began to fall more freely down his face as he stared into Harry's green eyes.

"Everywhere," he replied, his lower lip wobbling in agitation.

"Everywhere…?" Green eyes widened in understanding and nodded as he stood from his seat. "Thank you." He motioned toward the door with his head and his cousins got up; they followed him from the house, leaving the old man to his misery.

"Harry, is he saying what I think he's saying?" Dean asked as they headed toward the Impala. The younger boy nodded glumly.

"Yup," he replied. "Ray Shriver was cut up and spread across the park."

"Which means there's no way to find all of him," Sam said. Harry shook his head.

"Guess we'll be using my spell again," he said as he opened the back door. The older pair shared a look over the top of the car before getting in. Dean huffed in anger as he started the car. "C'mon mate, you know this is the only possible solution. We can't exactly burn the forest and we'll never find all the pieces."

"I know it's the only solution," Dean retorted. "Doesn't mean I have to like it. How do we find this guy anyway?"

"My guess is he's back at the house," Sam said. Harry opened his mouth to question why but he continued before his cousin could interrupt. "It's where the kids were taken from. I'm thinking he's reenacting his death with other people. He takes them from his house, like he was taken, drags them to the park, then cuts them up."

"The ME did say they were cut up with what looked like an axe," Harry added. "It makes sense if that's how Ray was killed. _And_ the house was where we saw Ray to begin with."

"Alright, the house it is." It took them a bit to get to the house as it wasn't exactly in town. Dean was still muttering about his hair when they arrived but Sam and Harry knew to keep their mouths shut. Despite the fact that Dean had messed with Sam's hair when they were little, the older man was having a hard time dealing with the prank. This case, which had started out incredibly easy, was turning into a major headache. Who knew a simple prank could do so much?

The group grabbed their sawed offs and a couple of flashlights, trudging towards the door. The old house had been abandoned since the sixties when the last owner died. Over the last forty years, the house has exchanged hands but nobody ever moved in, leaving it open to vandals and vagrants.

It had grown dark during the drive but there was enough light from the stars and the moon that the boys didn't need to turn on their flashlights before entering the home. Although everything was boarded up, kids throughout the years had created their own entrance and it didn't take them long to find it around the side of the house. Dean crawled through the hole first, being sure to keep an eye out for Shriver and any cracks in the flooring; Harry followed and then Sam.

"Alright, fan out," Dean said. He grabbed Harry's arm as the younger boy made to leave. "Be careful. Don't do anything stupid." Harry smiled but Dean's look remained the same. "I mean it."

"I'll be fine, mate," he responded.

"You better be, squirt," Dean muttered but Harry heard him. His smile grew and he shook his head. The younger boy edged his way around the halls, making his way upstairs quietly. His shot gun was held in his right hand while his wand was in his left. He'd been practicing Ginny's spell with both hand so he was free to use his gun if he needed to. Harry figured since he'd only just begun to use firearms he'd stick to using them with his dominant hand while his wand would be used by his left.

Silence filled the halls as the boys wandered through the house. Either Shriver was keeping out of sight because he sensed something was going to happen or he really wasn't here. Harry had a feeling that it was the first one; every time he needed Peeves for a distraction the poltergeist was never around.

There was only one room left on the second floor. Harry peered inside, quickly scanning the walls and floors as he made his way into the room. It was a swift search as the room was empty except for dust motes and cobwebs. As he turned to leave the room, Harry stopped as a figure stood in the doorway. The older man was staring at him in anger, flickering sporadically. Raising his wand, Harry muttered the spell under his breath. Unfortunately, Shriver disappeared before it made contact. Deciding not to get caught in the room, the younger boy darted forward, firing his gun when he appeared again to his right. Rock salt sprayed across the hallway and the ghost scattered, this time not of his own volition.

Harry ran down the hallway towards the staircase, glancing over his shoulder. Not seeing anything, he turned back around. Skidding to a halt, he raised the gun and fired again. Shriver was reappearing faster than Harry thought he would; however, after a minute, Harry hoped he'd gone to bother his cousins, giving him a chance to catch his breath. He started towards the stairs again until Shriver knocked the gun out of his hand, sending it flying over the railing.

"Shit!" Harry exclaimed just before he dove to the side and the dried, rotted floorboards exploded where his head had been. The ghost was fast and seemed to catch on that Harry was the only one able to banish him.

"Harry?" Dean called from the first floor and the younger boy heard them running through the house towards the foyer where the staircase was. It was the first time he'd heard them since Shriver started attacking him but he figured they'd been calling since the first gunshot. His hearing usually faded out in a fight slightly. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Harry responded brushing himself off as he edged towards the landing, keeping his wand trained and eyes alert. After several minutes and no reemergence, Harry turned to look at his cousins, Dean's bright hair making it possible to differentiate between the two in the darkened house. "I think he's figured—"

"Harry!" The startled shout had the brunette turning abruptly, his green eyes widening in shock. The ghost slammed his hands forward and Harry felt the familiar ice cold sensation hit his chest, though instead of passing through as the ghosts of Hogwarts would do, Harry was propelled backwards. His back hit the railing painfully and he felt it splinter and then shatter under his weight. Normally weightlessness didn't bother him but he felt fear clench him. The last time he'd fallen any great distance, he'd been unconscious and that had been four years ago. Harry heard his cousins' shouts but he knew he was falling too fast for them to catch him. He curled in on himself and braced for impact.

Pain lanced through his back as he slammed into the ground before rolling to a stop. Bruises definitely would be covering his body and Harry was fairly certain his left hand was broken or at least sprained. The young boy felt a body kneel beside him and a gentle finger run along cheek. Loud blasts filled his ears as his hearing suddenly returned to him. Harry groaned and attempted to roll away from the pain but a hand stopped him.

"Hey, stay still." Dean's voice broke through the explosion of noise. He sounded urgent but calm. "Can you move your feet or arms?"

"Hurts..." Harry responded, gritting his teeth against the shooting pain along his back.

"Dean!" Sam shouted amid the blasts. Dean grabbed Harry's sawed off and tossed it to his brother.

"C'mon squirt, we gotta get outta here," Dean murmured, sliding his hands under Harry's shoulder blades just above the point of impact and his knees. "You tell me if you lose feeling anywhere, got it?" Somewhere in the recesses of Harry's mind, he knew his cousin was worried about spine injuries but he had an ace up his sleeve.

"Magic…heal-healing…back's…fine," Harry was able to choke out. He may not be in any immediate danger of being paralyzed but that didn't mean he wasn't in considerable pain or fighting to remain conscious. The jostling from Dean sprinting to the car or the explosions from Sam's sawed off weren't helping.

Dean laid his cousin gently in the backseat before hurrying around to the driver's side front door. He threw his car into drive and peeled out of the driveway as smoothly as possible before speeding down the highway towards the nearest hospital. Harry seemed to sense his intentions because he piped up from the backseat.

"Dean…no hospital," the younger boy said. Sam had turned around in his seat and was watching their cousin while Dean drove. He may not like hospitals but he recognized when they were necessary and now was one of those times. "Dean…no…I'm fine."

"Harry, no," he responded fear and anger evident in his tone. "You are not fine! You fell fifteen feet onto your back."

"Hurts, yeah," Harry said, his voice hitching slightly as Dean accidentally hit a bump in the road. He paused, waiting for the flare to subside. "But my magic is…healing my…back. By the…by the time we…get there…nothing will be…wrong." Although they could hear the pain in Harry's voice, the fact that he could string coherent sentences together lessoned their worry. Right after it happened, he could only bite out single words, now he was speaking in sentences.

Dean glanced at Sam and they had an entire conversation through raised eyebrows and tilts of the head. The older man sighed heavily and surveyed his cousin in the rearview mirror. His face was pale and covered in sweat, his breathing shallow but consistent. He really wanted to take him to the hospital but Dean knew they'd only ask probing questions and tell him things he already knew. Biting back his overprotective urges, Dean turned towards the motel instead.

Once inside their room, the brothers began to see to their cousin's injuries, putting a splint on his left hand after Harry rotated it to prove he was okay. Dean shoved several pain killers down his throat, refusing to go to sleep as Sam suggested. He needed to watch him, watch the steady rise and fall of his chest to assure himself he was really there, really alive. Watching his cousin fall through the air and knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it was the worst feeling in the world. Dean tried to get the image out of his mind but it seemed to be seared there. He glanced at his brother and noticed that Sam's brown eyes were open and following the motion of Harry's breathing. So much for sleep…

**0~*~*~0**

Sam's eyes jerked open. Sunlight was streaming into the motel room, streaking across the occupants. Dean was still in his position from last night, sitting up and leaning against the headboard with his arms crossed over his chest and his ankles folded over one another. His head lolled to the side though, as his eyes were closed in sleep. Sam's eyes drifted down and he felt a jolt of panic run through him as he realized Harry was out of bed.

The sound of a flushing toilet reached his ears and he turned to watch the younger boy walk stiffly out of the bathroom.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Sam demanded quietly as he got up to help his cousin who brushed him off.

"Had to use the loo," Harry replied evenly.

"Well, next time tell one of us," Sam said as he placed his hands gently on Harry's shoulders to guide him back to bed. The younger boy paused to look at his cousin oddly.

"You want me to tell you when I have to use the toilet?" Harry asked incredulously. Sam felt himself blush but he refused to back down.

"Yes," he replied as he again attempted to steer him towards bed. "Now can you please rest before Dean catches you and I get in trouble?" Harry sighed but allowed himself to be tucked into Sam's bed so he didn't wake Dean.

"I'm fine Sam," Harry said, gently stilling Sam's fretting fingers. "Really." The older man wanted to argue, wanted to say that no, Harry was not fine; Harry could have been seriously injured, could have died and that was not okay in Sam's book.

A knock at the door interrupted Sam's retort as well as succeeded in waking Dean from his slumber. How Harry getting out of bed hadn't, Sam would never know. Dean looked at his brother and cousin, raising a brow but didn't speak as another knock sounded, this time more persistent. Dean pulled himself out of bed, aiming his Colt at the door with his left hand while he opened it with his right.

"Yeah?" he asked. Sam and Harry couldn't see who was there but they could hear.

"You must be Dean," the softly accented voice wafted back to them and Harry ducked his head, groaning. "I'm Hermione."


	35. Part IX: Chapter 34

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **Yea, next chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter and/or favorited this story. It gives me warm fuzzies to know that people like my work enough to put up with my craziness! Thanks goes out to my beta Kirallie for checking over my stuff for me. She makes sure you guys don't have to deal with switching verb tenses or my comma obsession.

Summary: Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

"I'm Hermione," she said. "A friend of Harry's." Dean stared at the curly haired brunette standing in the doorway. She wasn't too short or too tall, at least for a girl, with a heart shaped face, deep brown eyes that sparked with warmth and intelligence. Her mane was pulled back into a neat French plait and her clothes were very put together. Her smile faltered for a minute as Dean continued to stare at her and she indicated the room with a tilt of her head. Dean shook himself and pulled the door open wider to let her in.

Dean watched as she skirted into the room, her eyes glancing quizzically around, taking in everything before finally landing on his brother and Harry. Hermione hurried forward to throw her arms around her friend before drawing back quickly at his wince. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," Harry replied, his smile bright and even. Sam had gotten up to give them room and she perched in his vacated seat. She fixed him with a steady glare. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to drop something off," she said cryptically, knowing he was trying to derail her but she had learned to simply push forward when dealing with Harry or Ron. "Harry, I've known you for six years," Hermione started her voice sharp and crisp. "When you say you're fine, you're near death; when you say you're okay, you're in considerable amounts of pain but are capable of movement; and when you say you're alright, generally you're fine by normal people's standards. So please don't insult my intelligence when I can quite clearly see you're lying."

Silence followed as Harry pressed his lips together, frustration filling his eyes for a moment at his friend's astuteness. She held his gaze before turning abruptly to face the brothers. "What happened?"

Sam's brown eyes darted between the three other occupants while Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't worry, princess, I can assure you, we're handling it." Hermione arched one brown brow and stood up to mimic his stance.

"Well, _princess_," she retorted, glancing at his pink hair. "I can assure _you_, if you don't tell me what happened to my _best friend_, I will hex you until you can't see straight!" Fire danced in her eyes and she didn't need to be holding her wand for her threat to have merit. Harry shook his head at his friend's theatrics. He knew Hermione well enough to know she woulnd't curse a couple of muggles just for information...unfortunately, they didn't know that. Sam swallowed audibly before glancing at his brother who was staring at the shorter woman with something like fear and respect in his eyes.

"He was pushed by a ghost from a second story landing into a foyer of a house we were checking out," he replied hastily.

"Dean!" Harry groaned in frustration.

"Dude, she's scary!" came the quick reply and Harry rolled his eyes. Hermione whirled to face him, her eyes darting over his frame, checking for injuries and how he held himself. Once she was sufficiently satisfied that he was being well taken care of despite being hurt, she nodded her head once and sat back on the bed. She'd prefer he was healed by Madame Pomfrey but she knew Harry would never go for it. The only reason he went to the infirmary of his own volition was to visit his friends, never because he was hurt.

"Happy?" Harry asked, folding his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

"Harry, no matter many times you try to hide it from me, I will always worry when you're hurt," Hermione said, not dignifying his earlier barb with a response. "Haven't you learned by now that I don't care what's wrong with you, that I will always love you?" Harry rolled his eyes dramatically but smiled slightly catching her eye. She smiled back and shook her head.

"Boys…" she muttered under her breath and his smile widened; it was obviously an inside joke between them. She smoothed her hands down her jeans as she lifted her eyes to fix him with a look. He sighed spectacularly.

"There was a ghost and it didn't particularly like when I tried to banish it with that spell of Bill's," Harry explained. "It really wasn't that bad, Hermione, honest." She looked like she wanted to press further but clamped her mouth shut.

"Well, I suppose it could be worse," she finally said. She perked up slightly as a light appeared in her eye. "I'm assuming you used the spell in the past, how does it work? Ginny explained the wand movements and pronunciation, of course but little else. I'm curious if it kills the ghost so to speak or merely sends it to another plane of existence or perhaps, it banishes the ghost to another place, which would definitely not be a good thing as far as the ghost you used it on is concerned. I found some books at Grimmauld Place that discuss ghosts and the nature of their existence; however, they explained very little of how the spell actually works, though I've a theory that—"

"Hermione," Harry said breaking through her excited speech. "Breath." She pursed her lips together in a disapproving look but she was used to her friends not wanting all the details. Harry glanced at his cousins and burst into peals of laughter. Sam was looking at Hermione as though she was the answer to his prayers while Dean looked utterly and hopelessly lost. "You know you might be able to help actually." She sat up straighter.

"What can I do?"

"Well, I think the ghost has cottoned on to me using the spell and we can't salt and burn the bones as its remains are spread over a State Park," Harry explained and Hermione nodded her head as he listed their previous options. "Do you have any ideas how to get rid of a ghost without using those methods?"

Hermione considered his words carefully, her eyes glassy as her brain whirled with various possibilities. "Have you thought of using Nick?" she asked slowly. Harry looked at her confused.

"Nick? Who's Nick?" Dean asked. Harry noticed they'd taken a seat on the bed opposite his and were watching their conversation with rapt attention. This was a part of their cousin they only got to see once, with Ginny. How he acted with people he'd known for years, who'd been with him through good and bad, thick and thin, with people he shared jokes and stories with. This was the Harry they'd wished he'd been all along, a carefree teenager.

"Nick's the ghost of Gryffindor," Harry explained.

"Wait," Sam said, confused. "Your dormitory? It had a ghost?"

"Yes, all the houses had a ghostly mascot," Hermione interjected. "Though Hogwarts was home to about twenty or so ghosts, and of course Peeves. He's a poltergeist." Once again the brothers were left speechless by what Hermione had said and Harry had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time this happened either.

"So Nick?" Harry asked, trying to get the conversation back on topic.

"Right, well, you do know that he has to listen to you right?" Hermione asked exasperated. Harry stared at her in confusion.

"What? No!"

"Honestly Harry, you need to read more," Hermione said as she got settled more comfortably on the bed. "As the Gryffindor heir, you essentially own Hogwarts, though it's more of a title rather than actual ownership. Regardless of technicalities, this means that the ghosts must listen to heirs of the founders and as you are the only heir left…Plus, Nick would willingly help you anyway."

"Okay, disregarding the heir stuff, how can Nick help?" Harry asked.

"Two ghosts are capable of canceling out each other spirits," Hermione explained. "But Nick is a wizarding ghost which means he'll survive the encounter; apparently wizarding ghosts' magical essence will keep them on this plane of exististance rather than allowing them to move on. All you need to do is summon him. Normally ghosts wouldn't be able to leave their place of haunting, namely Hogwarts, but your magical ownership of him will pull him here."

"How do you know this?" Harry asked, his voice a mixture of awe and disbelief. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Alright, how do I summon him?" Hermione thought for a moment.

"Well, obviously some sort of blood sacrifice must be used but I believe you simply must call to him invoking your heritage," she said. Harry nodded and turned to the brothers, holding out his hand for a knife.

Dean shook his head, standing up. "No, I don't like it. This sounds like dark magic to me." Hermione huffed. She wasn't used to people disregarding her advice, most of the students and professors had accepted her intelligence, some even in awe of it.

"I can assure you it's perfectly natural," Hermione tried to explain. "Simply because blood is used doesn't mean it's evil. Blood is the earliest and basest check of a person's inheritance. It cannot be faked or altered. Wizarding ghosts, unlike muggle vengeful spirits, aren't made because of anger but rather because of an inability to move on. Simply put, they are afraid of death. I would never recommend a spell that was dark; it goes against everything I believe in as a witch!"

"It's alright," Sam said, trying to sooth her ruffled feathers. "We just haven't come across many good witches before and most of the spells Harry's used aren't that bad, as far as we can tell." Sam caught Dean's eye and gave him a look. The older man in turn huffed in annoyance at being overridden but slapped the Swiss army knife in Harry's outstretched hand.

Harry opened it and after glancing at Hermione, he shrugged and pierced his index finger, letting the blood bead on his finger. "I…I um summon Nick, er Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington…here." Absolutely nothing happened and Harry looked at his cousins who had curious looks on their faces, as though they were holding their breath. He looked to Hermione who had an exasperated look on her face. A minute later, Harry realized why Sam and Dean were holding their breaths. Both burst into laughter, loud raucous laughter. "It wasn't that bad!"

"Harry, you couldn't summon a pygmypuff with that," Hermione commented dryly. "Just as with any other type of magic, the word choice must be precise. Try being more serious and use all your titles. Think before you speak for a change." Harry let out a deep breath and considered his words carefully before opening his mouth to try again.

"I, Harry James Potter, Lord Potter of the Courageous and Honorable House of Potter, Lord Black of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, heir to the Peverell and Gryffindor lines, due hereby summon and invoke Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington to come and aid me in my plight." When he finished speaking, he jerked his finger and let the bead of blood fall to the floor. As soon as it touched the ragged motel carpet, a great rushing sound filled the room and a transparent man hovered in the space between the beds. He was wearing a close fitting overcoat with a large plumed hat atop his head and ruffle settled at his neck. A smile graced his hat as he bowed low, sweeping his hat grandly.

Sam and Dean stared at the apparition in shock fighting the urge to shoot it, to grab their cousin and shoot it. "Ahh, young Master Harry, what a pleasure it is to be the cause of your acknowledged inheritance."

"What?" Harry asked confused. "I already acknowledged my inheritance with the goblins."

"Your monetary inheritance, indeed," Nick agreed. "But by summoning me, you have acknowledged your magical inheritance of your ancient and powerful ancestors, willing to yourself magicks far beyond your reckoning." Harry glared at Hermione who blushed and ducked her head. She obviously didn't know that aspect of it. "Oh, do not be alarmed, good lad, you are merely releasing magic that was already inside you to be used. This is a most auspicious day!"

Harry rolled his eyes. Great, another reason to be mocked and pointed at. "Let's just keep this between ourselves, yeah?" Nick's eyes widened and he nodded solemnly.

"Of course, Master Harry, I'll take it with me to the grave," he said seriously. Dean's lips twitched involuntarily as he noticed his cousin's vexation with the ghost who clearly adored him. There was years worth of blackmail material here... Sam opened his mouth to make a comment but Hermione cleared her throat and shook her head violently. They didn't need Sam inadvertantly insulting their only option for getting rid of the ghost. Nick unfortunately took great offense to being reminded that he was dead. "What was it you requested of me?"

"Would you be willing to deal with a ghost, er vengeful spirit for us?" Harry asked, glancing up at the ghost from under his fringe.

"Is it the ghost that has attached himself to you?" Nick asked curiously. "I shall smite the wicked creature back to his unworthy grave." The brothers glanced warily around the room while Harry sat up suddenly, hissing in pain.

"What ghost?"

"There is an older gentleman hovering in the corner near to your bed," Nick said indicating over his shoulder and Harry glanced to the wall at his back. He couldn't see anything or even sense anything. "He's appears quite frantic and not a little deranged."

"What does he look like?" Sam asked suddenly, an odd look in his eye.

"He's a rather scruffy individual, most unkempt…" Nick trailed off as he stared at the spot where the ghost apparently was. "I say, that was quite rude! I can assure you I am a knight of the realm of his highness, King Henry VII. You, sir, are a vagabond ruffian of the lowest order!" Nick's nostrils' flared dramatically as he listened to the other ghost. Dean and Sam shared a look while Harry smiled; they all had a feeling they knew who the ghost was but he shouldn't be here. They'd burned his body.

"Nick," Harry called and the knightly ghost turned to him with an offended expression on his face. "He's alright, the vengeful spirit we're looking for is in an old abandoned house."

"I will return as soon as my deed is complete." Nick bowed with a flourish before he disappeared and left the room to utter silence. Dean and Sam in all their years of hunting had never quite met a ghost like that. Granted they'd never met a ghost that old before either; he easily had been dead for hundreds of years. Not only that but they find out their father, who they thought had been laid to rest, was somehow attached to them.

"Who was he talking to?" Hermione asked carefully, eyeing the three boys with trepidation.

"My uncle," Harry replied softly. "I suppose it makes sense. Something held that gun back when Webber told you to shoot yourself."

"And something pushed me out of the way of that knife during the Rakshasa hunt," Sam added, his voice breathy. Dean scoffed as he began to pace the room.

"And you think this _something_ is Dad, Sammy?" he asked. "I don't buy it. No, it goes against everything Dad taught us."

"Oh c'mon Dean," Sam said. "You and I both know there are loopholes, that burning a body doesn't always do it. You think Dad wouldn't have found a loophole, cause I sure as hell do!"

"But why?" Dean asked whirling around to face his brother. "Why stay when he can be with Mom?" Sam opened his mouth but closed it when he realized he had nothing to say.

"Look, we can just ask him when Nick comes back but right now I'm starving," Harry said.

**0~*~*~0**

Dean decided to run to the local diner to grab breakfast for them all and bring it back. He didn't really like his cousin moving around too much, despite his mutterings that he was fine. He was still in pain, though not nearly as much as last night; it would flare occasionally when he moved too quickly or twisted in the wrong way. His wrist was nearly healed but they kept the splint on to help it along. His bruises had nearly vanished, only the major ones leaving behind the mottled yellow and green color of several day old bruises and not ones a half day old. Sam stayed with Hermione and Harry, knowing Dean wanted to be alone to consider the revelation Nick had dropped on them and needing to stay with his cousin. He'd still not recovered from watching him fall.

The black muscle car growled down the street, its sound reminiscent of the mood its owner was in. Dean hated to think about his feelings; he had them to be sure but he hated to consider them, not like Sam did. Sam would mope and turn over his emotions, considering them from every angle until he was certain he had a grasp of what he and everyone else was feeling. It was his more analytical nature applied to something as unanalytical as sentiment. Dean on the other hand didn't think, he felt. He was very emotive. What you see was what you got when it came to Dean. If he was pissed, he hit something; if he was sad, he was quiet; if he was happy, he cracked jokes and pulled pranks. Once a person got to know Dean, they realized how emotional he truly was. However, he did not like talking about his emotions, didn't want to analyze them, he was content enough with the knowledge that they were there; he didn't care why.

Unfortunately, there was times when Dean did think about his emotions. He didn't study them, but he acknowledged them rather than simply feeling. He knew right now he was upset, ripped open again at the news that his father was not at rest, he was scared for the power his cousin now supposedly possessed and overwhelmed by the wealth Harry had at his disposal and worried that now he would leave them once he realized he didn't really need them. All these emotions were swirling around within him and he recognized them for what they were, which only made his mood more sour.

Pushing his emotions into the dark recess inside him they normally dwelled, he preferred to only feel one thing at a time, Dean pulled into a parking space outside the small-town diner. It barely registered in his consciousness as he'd seen it many times before, always in another state or another town but the diner was always the same, just as he, his brother and his cousin always ordered the same thing. When they could, Dean ordered a cup of coffee – black, eggs – scrambled, bacon – slightly crispy but not overly done, sausage – fully cooked, toast – white with butter and strawberry jam and fruit he'd snitch from his brother. Sam always got a coffee – three sugars and a lot of cream, whole wheat pancakes – no butter but a light drizzle of syrup, and a cup of fruit he'd hoard fiercely lest his brother take it. Harry usually got a combination of Dean's artery clogging breakfast of champions and Sam's princess platter. He would order French toast – plain and a side of bacon – cooked just the same as Dean's along with a tall glass of orange juice. Dean had no clue what Hermione ate; he probably should have asked before he left.

It took the cooks about fifteen minutes to prepare their meal and another five before he was leaving with a couple bags of steaming food. He'd decided to go with Sam's order for Hermione; she looked like a geeky sort who liked healthy food. The ride back was as silent as the ride there as Dean was left alone with his thoughts and the food.

The pink haired man pushed open the door to the motel, watching as his brother immediately got up to take some bags and clear off the table. Harry tried to get up but his friend stopped him with a searing look. He sat back, an innocent smile on his face as she shook her head congenially. Obviously they'd done this dance before.

Sam brought over Harry and Hermione's plates for them before returning to his own breakfast. She popped a piece of fruit in her mouth, considering Dean for a moment, which was quickly aggravating him.

"What?"

"Why is your hair pink?" she asked lightly. Sam nearly choked on his breakfast as laughter overtook him while Harry ducked his head and Dean glared at his cousin. Hermione's brown eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh. You didn't warn them did you?"

"Warn us about what?" Sam asked warily. Hermione shared a smile with Harry before turning towards them.

"Oh, it's nothing bad," she assured them. "Harry learned to prank from the best pranksters at school. They also like to send him packages of their prototypes."

"Wait," Dean said, his eyes flickering around as he considered something. "Are you saying that package you didn't open was from these guys?"

"Well, I might have had a few tricks up my sleeve," Harry said. "But you guys started it! I wanted to stay out of it but noooo!" Hermione started laughing as she watched them banter back and forth. It was good to see Harry happy again; ever since the last battle, he'd been distant, not unhappy per say, but not himself. Everyone had noticed it but nobody had wanted to say anything. When Ginny had come home, she'd told them about him, about how at peace he was, how he interacted with his cousins, everything.

"It has been done, Master Harry." Dean and Sam nearly jumped out of their skins when Nick arrived again, though Harry and Hermione found it hilarious.

"Hey, it's just Harry, remember?" he said. "So Shriver's gone?"

"He has been defeated," Nick said as he sadly watched Dean return to his breakfast. "Would you like me to vanquish the one sitting beside you?" Harry's eyes widened as he shook his head immediately.

"No! No, actually uh," Harry said as he glanced between his cousins. "Could you do me a favor?"

"I would be honored, Mas— er, Harry," the ghost replied.

"Could you tell us what he says?" the younger boy said, swallowing past the lump in his throat as his emotions attempted to get the better of him. Nick turned toward a corner in the room, near the bed, nodding slightly.

"He says it's good to see you boys," Nick said. "And that you've done well training him."

"Ask him—" Sam broke off and took several deep breaths before continuing. "Ask him why he's here?" Nick listened carefully to spot again.

"The man claims he can't leave until it is completed," he said.

"Until what's completed?" Sam asked. He focused on the spot, though they knew he couldn't see John. "What, Dad? What? The demon? Are you still after the freakin' demon?"

"It's not that simple," Nick recited. "I can't leave until he's gone."

"Why?" Harry asked, grabbing Sam's arm and squeezing gently.

"Because it's what he died for," Nick said sadly. "To save you so you could go on."

"Why Dad?" Dean asked quietly and the silence that settled on the room was suffocating. Even Nick understood the severity of the question. "Why me?"

"Because you're my son." Nick's voice faded out and suddenly a voice they hadn't heard in several months filled the room. "And I had to. I couldn't let you die. You hear me? I couldn't!"

"Dad…" Dean said, tears forming in his eyes as frustration and pain lanced through him. This was the closest he'd been since his father's death and he still couldn't' see him. "You made a deal for me. A deal…"

"It's not that bad," John's voice said. "Still haven't figured everything out, the whole corporeal thing still escapes me, but I get to see my boys all the time now. Love the hair, Dean." The oldest man laughed through his tears that he refused to let fall. He ran his hand hastily across his eyes and down his face.

"Dad, I…" Sam started but John's voice stopped him.

"I know son," he said. "I know. Listen, I don't know how long I've got. Remember, I'm proud of you and always will be. Just keep doing what you're doing and you'll get him. I know you will."

"No, wait," Harry said as he surged forward, his face contorting in pain though no one was quite sure if it was physical or emotional. "Don't go!"

"I'm not going anywhere, Harry," John said softly. Sam and Dean hadn't heard their father speak that softly since they were little boys. "I'm not leaving."

"I didn't get to say goodbye," Harry said softly. "I never got to say goodbye. I…" He still hadn't let go of Sam's arm and his grip had gotten progressively tighter. His cousin pulled him into his side, recognizing how hard this was for him; it was hard for all of them.

"I'm sorry boys," John said. "For everything…" The voice faded and while they knew John was still there, he could no longer talk to them himself. Nick glanced awkwardly at them before catching Hermione's eye who nodded slightly. Nick nodded back and faded away as he returned to Hogwarts.

"Perhaps I should be going," she said as she stood from the bed. The three boys looked towards her, clearly having forgotten there was anyone else in the room. "Harry, if you need me…" He nodded as he stood shakily from the bed. Hermione took a deep breath. No matter how much she wanted to comfort him, to help him through this, it was no longer her place. She'd always be his best friend but his cousins would be there to take care of him now.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled a gleaming sword and laid it on the bed. The handle was gold with ruby inlaid and a name was written along the center of the blade. Harry blinked at her in confusion while she smiled. "Hope this helps." She pulled him into a hug and clung to him fiercely. "Be careful, Harry."

"I will," he said as she pulled back. Nodding towards the brothers on the bed, she gave one last smile and disapparated. The sword sat on the bed, seeming to glisten at them innocently. Harry swallowed before walking forward and picking it up, holding in his hand and flexing his grip around the handle. "We've got work to do."


	36. Part X: Chapter 35

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **So, apparently I'm bad at keeping promises...though you guys don't have to worry about me not finishing this. Sorry about taking so long to update; you guys are so patient which I greatly appreciate. Thanks to all my awesome readers and especially to anyone who reveiwed. I love getting feedback from you guys, good bad amd ugly. Thanks to my beta Kirallie for checking over my work.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

**Part X: Born Under A Bad Sign**

**0~*~*~0**

_You made up your mind to leave it all behind  
Now you're forced to fight it out  
You fall away from your past  
But it's following you_

_"Fall Away" The Fray_

**0~*~*~0**

"Oh, c'mon. That's bollocks," Harry shouted at the television, throwing his hands up into the air, his green eyes glaring at the screen harshly. "No card! For three penalties in the box! And you called the goal back! Are you blind or just stupid?"

Dean and Sam smiled as they watched Harry's reaction to the game playing out on the television screen. The last month and a half had been fairly rigorous for them so they decided to take a well-needed break for a couple of days. They'd been searching for the demon ever since Hermione had given them the sword but it was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, the boys had been taking on case after case in an attempt to feel like at least they were making a difference. The boys were currently holed up in a small town in West Texas after a poltergeist hunt from a few towns over. Dean had relinquished the remote to Harry who decided to watch a soccer game. Although the younger boy had never been obsessed with the sport as his dorm mate had been, he didn't mind watching and getting into a game on occasion.

"This ref is a complete tosspot," Harry said turning to glance at his cousins as he took a sip of his soda. "Only reason to call a goal back is for offsides or if the player committed a foul, but he didn't do either!" Harry turned back to watch and sighed in disgust. "And now the bloke's not even saying what the call was for! Utter wanker."

"I don't know," Dean said, completely serious except for a twinkle in his eye. "Guy looks offsides to me." He knew nothing about the finer points of soccer but Dean had had to listen to Sam go on and on about the sport during his phase and had picked up a thing or two. Harry rolled his eyes.

"He was onsides when the ball was kicked. See?" Harry pointed it out during the replay. "Therefore the shot was legit." Harry began to explain the ins and outs of offsides while Dean listened, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Maybe Harry was right: there was good magic out there; it was just hard to find.

_*flashback*_

"_No but she's the second in town to murder because an angel told them to," Sam said. Harry was sitting on the other bed, away from Dean and his slightly uncomfortable MagicFingers habit. "Little bit odd, don't you think?"_

"_Well, odd yes," Dean agreed as he sat up facing his cousin and brother. "Supernatural, maybe. But angels? I don't think so." Harry blinked at his cousin in surprise. _

"_Why not?" Sam asked before Harry could. _

"_Cause there's no such thing, Sam," replied the older man. He appeared to be having difficulty believing that they didn't agree with him._

"_Dean," Sam scoffed. "There's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted."_

"_Yeah, and you know what?" Dean asked sarcastically. "There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear they ride on silver moonbeams and they shot rainbows outta their ass!" Sam sank heavily onto the bed next to Harry, his expression completely crestfallen. _

"_Wait," Sam said sadly. "There's no such thing as unicorns?"_

"_That's cute," Dean bit out harshly. "I'm just saying, man, there's some legends that you just file under 'Bull Crap'."_

"_And you've got angels on the 'Bull Crap' list?" Sam responded incredulously._

"_Yep," Dean replied unrepentantly._

"_Why?" Sam asked, trying to understand inside his brother's psyche._

"_Because I've never seen one." It was a simple response. It was obvious that Dean lived his life by this simple response. _

"_So what?" Sam asked._

"_So, I believe in what I can see," Dean replied, his hazel eyes dancing between his brother and his cousin. _

"_Dean," Sam sighed. "You and I have seen things most people couldn't even dream about."_

"_Exactly," Dean said. The simplicity of his train of thought was astounding to Sam. There were very few areas of gray in Dean's world and ever since meeting Gordon and the other special children, the gray areas were expanding. But this, this he could hold onto. "With our own eyes. That's hard proof, okay? But in all this time, I have never seen anything that looks like an angel. And don't you think that if they existed, that we would have crossed paths with them, or at least know someone that crossed paths with them? No. This is a demon or a spirit. They find people a few fries short of a Happy Meal and they trick them into killing these randoms." _

"_Maybe," Sam said noncommittally, glancing towards Harry who was looking at his hands studiously. Dean narrowed his gaze. _

"_C'mon, squirt," he said cuffing the younger boy on the shoulder. "You don't believe in this…do you?" Harry looked up, a serious expression on his face._

"_Yeah, I do," Harry replied. "Angels and unicorns and all the good stuff in the world. Because I have seen it."_

_Silence followed his words as Sam and Dean gaped at him. Disbelief and shock covered their faces but there was a small hint of hope that couldn't quite be squelched. _

"_You've seen an angel?" Dean asked, trying for his usual nonchalance but failing miserably. Harry considered his question for a moment._

"_An angel…maybe," he finally replied. "I feel like I have but I can't quite remember…But unicorns definitely." _

"_Unicorns, seriously?" Sam asked incredulously. Although he was willing to believe, to have faith, he couldn't quite fathom unicorns. Harry smiled and nodded. _

"_Seriously," he said. "They're the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen, so pure and good. The way they move, the way they look, everything about them is…good. There's no other word for them."_

"_When did you see them?" Dean asked as he took a seat, carefully watching as his cousin continued to draw into himself, into his memories. _

"_First time," he said. "First year. I was eleven and it was dead. Something had killed it. Even in death, the unicorn was so striking, so perfectly sad and chaste." Harry paused and bit his lip. He remembered Firenze's words, about unicorn blood and exactly why a drinker would have a cursed life. "The second time was when I was fifteen. I saw foals._

"_The thing I learned from unicorns, and everything in the wizarding world, there must be balance. For every evil thing in the world, there must be something good to balance it. Every spell has a counterspell, every jinx has a counter jinx." Harry stopped talking again and considered his next words carefully. "The first time I saw a unicorn, it was dead. The next time, it was alive. Old, young. Balance. The problem is evil is so much more obvious, so much more easy to see. Good is harder to find."_

_*flashback ended*_

Sam smiled as Dean began to argue in earnest with their cousin about soccer even though he didn't really care nor did he really know the particulars of the sport. He got up and grabbed his wallet. Both looked up with identical looks on their faces.

"I'm going to get something to eat," Sam replied, rolling his eyes. "You guys want anything?" Predictably Harry shook his head negatively; unpredictably Dean did as well. "Okay. I'll see you guys later."

The other two were so into their argument that neither really noticed that Sam had left, let alone that he'd asked them a question. Dean was smiling at the intense expression on Harry's face over the small debate. Obviously, this was important.

"Okay, okay," he said holding up his hands in defeat. "I give up. You win."

"Damn straight," Harry replied; Dean raised an eyebrow and the younger boy grinned sheepishly. Dean shook his head.

"I didn't know you were into soccer," he mused as he leaned back against the headboard and began to flip through the channels now that game was over. "I remember when Sam played; he was so gangly."

"Well, football's alright," Harry said shrugging. "I never really played but I've been around it my whole life, y'know? Now, quidditch…that's a sport!"

"Quidditch?" Dean asked, glancing towards him.

"Wizarding sport," he replied as a smirk stretched across his face. "Played on broomsticks." Dean's smile fell and he eyed his cousin nervously."Don't worry; it's completely safe."

"How do you play?" Dean asked after swallowing deeply and trying to get his emotions under control. He wasn't happy learning that his baby cousin played a sport on broomsticks, _broomsticks_!

"Well, there are three chasers who handle the quaffle. It's a sort of red football, er soccer ball," Harry started as he turned to face his cousin, his face lighting in happiness and joy. "The keeper protects the goal hoops; they're situated about fifty feet in the air. Then there are the beaters. They protect their team from bludgers, two lead balls that zoom around the pitch trying to knock players off their brooms, by hitting them towards opposing team's players. Believe me, getting hit by one of those…not fun. The last player is the seeker. That was me. I played for my house starting when I was eleven, apparently the youngest in a century. My job was to catch the snitch, a small winged ball that flew around trying not to get caught. The first seeker to catch the snitch ended the game and won a hundred fifty points for their team."

Silence followed Harry's little speech. He waited for Dean's reaction in happy anticipation. The older man nodded slowly. "Completely safe huh?" Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Alright, so it's not completely safe," Harry conceded. "But it's not like people die from it. Just a few bumps and bruises…and broken bones."

"Yeah, because falling from fifty feet only gives you 'bumps and bruises'," Dean said sarcastically.

"Concussion actually," Harry commented before he could stop himself but he quickly snapped his mouth shut and looked away from Dean who was glaring at him.

"You fell off a broom?" The shout filled the room and Harry winced slightly before hurrying to defend himself.

"It wasn't because of the game or my skill," the younger boy said. "Dementors caused me to fall."

"Dementors?" Harry sighed. It was going to be a long night.

**0~*~*~0**

After Harry told Dean about dementors and assured him that he could take care of himself around them now, the pair settled into silence, watching television and cleaning guns. It wasn't until ten that Dean began to worry about Sam. Although he wasn't really paying any attention when Sam left, his brother had been his charge for so long that he became aware very quickly when his brother wasn't with him. The worry didn't begin to take hold until Dean's internal timer decided to go off whenever Sam was gone longer than the activity he was gone for required. He should have only been gone for half an hour, forty five minutes at most but two hours?

Dean glanced at his phone for the tenth time in two minutes and Harry was trying hard not to let his worry overwhelm him. Before he could change his mind, the younger boy crossed the two steps between the beds, grabbed the phone from Dean's hands and hit redial. He had the phone to his ear before Dean had even said a word. It rang three times before going to Sam's voicemail.

"_Hey, this is Sam. Leave me a message_." He snapped the phone shut and dropped it into Dean's lap as he slumped back onto his bed, his eyes returning to the television without saying a word. The older man glanced at him nervously before leaning back nonchalantly.

"You know Sam can take care of himself," Dean said casually. Harry changed the channel without saying a word. "I'm sure he's fine." The younger boy got up.

"Gotta use the loo," he said just before the bathroom door slammed behind him. Inside, Harry took several deep breaths, immediately beginning to pace. Sam was fine, Harry knew that, his cousin was always fine. He'd only been gone two hours; it's entirely possible that he got caught up at the library or something, thinking he and Dean needed some "alone time." Sam had been going out or drawing into his computer when Harry and Dean started talking but just like with Ron and Hermione, Harry needed both his cousins as well as time away from either one in order to stay sane. Harry was somehow going to have to convince Sam that he was just as important as Dean was to him.

Once Harry calmed down, he flushed the toilet, ran his hands under the faucet and left the bathroom. He glanced towards Dean who was quickly dropping the phone back onto the bed and trying to appear as though he hadn't just been calling his brother. Harry ignored him as he retook his seat on Sam's bed. White noise from the television filled the room as the cousins were lost in their thoughts before a rock song blasted out.

Dean grabbed the phone and had it to his ear in less than a second. "Sam!"

"_I'm fine_," came the bored response. "_I got caught up doing some research_."

"New hunt?" Dean asked as he leaned back against the headboard, relaxing while Harry rolled his eyes, barely hiding the happy smile on his face.

"_Nah, just some stuff_," Sam said lightly. "_Listen I lost track of time but I'm a roll here. I should be back later_."

"Wait, wait," Dean said harshly. "Where are you?"

"_Where do you think?_"

"Library?" Dean asked.

"_Obviously,_" Sam replied. "_Dean, I gotta go_."

"Yeah, yeah, college boy," the older man said before glancing over at Harry. "Oh and I totally believe you but I think you're in the doghouse with Harry, man."

"_I'll take him out_," the youngest Winchester said in a bored tone. "_Don't worry. Talk to you later_." The phone suddenly cut off and Dean was left staring at it, an odd expression on his face. He turned towards Harry.

"He says hi."

**0~*~*~0**

Harry was woken up the next morning by a repetitive treading coming from the area near his feet. Lifting his head, he stared blearily towards a pair of legs wearing a path in the carpet; his green eyes saw the worried expression on his cousin's face. Shifting around, Harry grabbed the clock off the bedside table and pulled it towards him, holding it under his nose under the numbers came into focus without his glasses. Eight o'clock? How had he slept so late? Why had Dean let him sleep so late?

"Where's Sam?" Harry asked groggily as he glanced toward Sam's bed.

"He went out to get breakfast," Dean said. The bed was neatly made but Harry should have woken up if he'd made it before he left. Looking closer he noticed that it didn't even appear slept in; in fact Harry could see the indent from where he had lain on it last night.

"He never came back last night, did he?" he asked as he hurried to get up, shove his glasses on his nose and grab his bag, pulling it towards him. Dean sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"No," the older man replied.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry was busy throwing items out of his bag but he was still able to throw an angry look over his shoulder.

"I didn't want to worry you," Dean replied ignoring the look. He was surprised at how deep the bag was; it looked like a simple messenger bag.

"Well, you should have told me," Harry said pulling something from the bag and throwing things back in. "I could have saved you a lot of trouble." Once everything was back inside, Harry held a small mirror in front of him. "Sam Winchester."

The mirror turned a faint blue color before melting into a scene. Sam was moving through a copse of trees, his stance sure but wary, his eyes focused around him. He appeared like he was on a hunt, though he wasn't holding any weapons.

"What the hell…" Dean said as he came to stand behind Harry and saw the mirror.

"How did you think I found you guys?" the young boy said. "You and I both know it wasn't due to credit card trails. This mirror shows anyone in my family who is related to me by blood. We can also use it to go right to him. Grab your stuff."

Dean and Harry quickly threw their things together, making sure the room was cleaned of their prints, before hurrying towards the car, Harry keeping an eye on the mirror. So far, nothing had changed, Sam just continued to move through the woods, though his expression had hardened and his eyes had an eerie gleam in them.

Harry stopped just before opening the door to get in the passenger seat, eyeing the car curiously before glancing at Dean. The older man was motioning him to hurry.

"C'mon," he said. "What are you waitin' for?"

"It would be quicker if I drove," Harry said slowly, carefully looking his cousin in the eye. Dean raised a brow.

"No," he said as he stooped to get it.

"I really think it would quicker," he tried again. Dean eyed him curiously and sighed.

"Alright, I'll bite. How?"

"Promise you won't get mad…?" Dean considered it for a moment then nodded hurriedly. Harry smiled, releasing a breath. "Great. Come on this side." Dean slammed his door shut and walked over to his cousin's side. Harry brought out his wand and giving one last glance at his cousin, waved it. "_Reducio_!"

Before Dean could quickly translate the spell, the Impala shrunk to the size of a matchbox car and the man's hazel eyes bugged out of his head. Gaping like a fish, he tried to speak but couldn't get words out. Harry hurried forward, plucking the car from the ground and putting it in his pocket, before grabbing Dean's arm. He opened his mouth but turned toward his cousin instead.

"Hold on," he said, making sure he emphasized his point by gripping the arm tighter. "I mean it Dean, don't let go."

"I got it, squirt," he replied, showing all the trust and understanding he had for his younger cousin in his eyes. Harry released a breath before apparating from the parking lot, the mirror clutched tightly in his hand.

Dean stumbled slightly once his feet hit the ground, gulping in air greedily after the constricting sensation. He glanced towards his cousin who was trying hard not to smile at his discomfort. The older man straightened to his full height and gave Harry a hard look.

"The first time is always the worst," Harry said before hurrying towards the house that the mirror said Sam was. He could see the woods his cousin had traveled through before making it to the ramshackle building. It appeared abandoned, windows boarded up and the door was lying against the termite-ridden railing as though it was torn off its hinges.

Sharing a glance with Dean, Harry put the mirror in his pocket and pulled his wand and gun, holding them comfortably as he stalked up the porch steps behind his cousin who had taken point. No sound reverberated through the house to indicate where Sam was or why he was here. Although the outside was in poor condition, the interior looked well-taken care of, furniture nice and modern, pictures lining the hall, even a vase with living flowers in it. As far as Harry could tell, a woman lived in this house.

Dean motioned towards the upstairs and Harry nodded as he continued down the hall. His cousin was halfway up the steps when a shout sounded through the first floor. Both froze for a fraction of a second before bolting down the hallway toward the back of the house. Harry burst through the swinging kitchen door and startled the other two people in the house, giving him a moment to take in the scene before him.

Sam was straddling a younger woman a little older than Dean on the floor, locking her wrist to her chest with his left hand while holding a large knife above his head about to administer the killing blow. The hesitation gave the woman a chance to twist her hips and throw Sam off her. She backed up in a defensive stance, taking in the new arrivals as she inched towards the door.

"Help!" she called desperately. Dean's eyes shifted between his brother and the woman before he noticed her hand snake out to grab a canister of salt. She threw it at Sam who blocked it and stalked forward. Before anyone could make a move, the youngest Winchester flew backwards and smashed his head into the wall. The woman's eyes widened with fear and anger just before she fell forward.

Dean turned to his cousin who was holding his wand steadily in his right hand pointing towards his cousin. He flicked it and Sam went rigid. Harry released a breath and turned to face Dean.

"I don't know what's going on but we can't kill this woman until we know for sure," he said, trying to get Dean to understand and accept his actions. The older man nodded warily, letting Harry deal with both of them. Deciding to deal with his cousin first, Harry muttered, "_Finite Incantatem! Petrificus!_"

Sam flexed his upper body, moving his hands around nervously before looking up at Harry and Dean with a confused expression on his face.

"Sam, what the hell happened?" Dean asked. His brother looked up at him with hesitant brown eyes.

"Dean…I don't remember anything."

The older man's hazel eyes flickered to Harry who bit his lip in worry. Nodding his head, he decided to deal with Sam away from the woman and in a place where he could control the variables. Harry started toward the woman.

"Get him out of here," he said. "I'll clean up this." Dean grabbed his arm as he was passing and caught Harry's eye, making sure he knew was certain about this. "I know what I'm going to do. Don't worry; it's nothing bad."

Dean pulled his brother to his feet and throwing him over his shoulder, proceeded to drag him from the house. Once he was outside, he dumped Sam on the ground far enough from the house that he was out of the way but close enough that if Harry needed help, Dean was right there. He didn't know what Harry was going to do but he did know that it wasn't anything too drastic. It wasn't in the younger boy's nature to hurt people indiscriminately.

A few minutes later, Harry exited the house, moving steadily toward them with his hand in his pocket. Once he reached them, he withdrew the Impala and after putting it on the ground, resized the car. Despite Sam's protest, Dean put his brother in the backseat while Harry was in the front passenger seat. The youngest Winchester was still under Harry's spell and was unlikely to do be released any time soon. After Dean had started the car, he turned to Harry.

"What'd you do? Won't she go to the cops?"

"You can't go to the cops if you don't know anything happened," Harry replied simply. Dean raised an eyebrow at his choice of words. "She won't be reporting anything." The older man nodded and drove down the driveway to the road.


	37. Part X: Chapter 36

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Born Under A Bad Sign" and "Dark Side of the Moon". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **Alright, next chapter. I was going to hav ethis next chapter up a few days ago but I was on vacation and got sidetracked. PS if you get the chance to go to the Harry Potter theme park in Orlando, go! It was my favorite part of the day; they did a really good job of replcating his world. They added detailed tidbits that diehard fans will recognize. It was great! (okay enough gushing, sorry I couldn't help it...) Anyway, hopefully this chapter clears up some questions y'all had. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. You guys can't imagine how happy and honored I am when people genuinely like my work. I'm glad you guys enjoyed my work; that's what makes it that much more enjoyable to write. Thanks to my beta Kirallie!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

"What'd you find out?" Sam asked looking up when Dean entered the room. Sam was able to remember bits and pieces, mostly mundane things such as the motel he was staying at and what he had for breakfast, but they came in flashes of inspiration or déjà vu. Harry had been sitting with the man while Dean had done the investigating and had gotten food for them. He dumped the take-out bags on the table along with his keys and leather jacket.

"You checked in last night," Dean said as he divvied up the food, "under the name Richard Sambora. Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan." He took a large bite of his breakfast burrito and watched as Harry took several tentative bites of his pancakes.

"Dean," Sam whined as he pushed the food away from him.

"Your room's been quiet," he continued as though he hadn't heard anything. Dean had been perfect at this since Sam had learned to talk so it wasn't hard. "Nobody's noticed anything unusual."

"You mean no one saw me walking around carrying a huge ass hunting knife?" Sam replied caustically. Harry was staying out of this; Dean was more likely to get answers than he was seeing as he'd been getting answers from his younger brother his whole life.

"Yeah," Dean bit out. "That's what I mean." Sam stood up from his seat, frustration marring his features.

"Then how the hell did I get here, Dean?" he asked throwing his arms up, catching his brother's eye before turning to face Harry. "What happened to me?"

"I don't know, alright?" Dean replied, raising his voice as he stood, his burrito forgotten. "But you're okay, that's what matters. Everything else we can deal with."

"Oh really?" Sam shouted incredulously. "Cause what if I hurt someone else? What if Harry didn't stop me in time? What if there are others?"

"Sam," the older man sighed heavily as he slouched in his seat.

"What if this is what Dad warned you about?" he asked quietly, his voice cracking slightly as his brown eyes softened.

"What?" Harry asked confused, looking between his cousins. "Warned you about what?"

"Hey, whoa, whoa," Dean said, glaring at Sam harshly before glancing at Harry. "Nothing, alright, he didn't mean anything. Now, we don't know what happened. And we've just gotta treat this like any other job. What's the last thing you remember?" Sam shook his head slowly in thought.

"Just me, you and Harry…" he said softly. "Just in that motel room in West Texas. I went out to grab some burgers and—" He broke off and shock his head again, more vigorously this time.

"Alright," Dean said trying to stay positive clapping his hands together. "Anything else?" He swiped his burrito from the table and took a large bite.

"That's it," Sam said. "Next thing I knew, I was sitting in that house, my head feeling like it'd been used as a piñata. Felt like I'd been asleep for a month."

"That's it?" Harry asked his expression closed as the possibilities swam through his head. "You sure?" Sam nodded his head confused. "I think you were possessed. Everything's pointing to it."

"Wait, you've dealt with possessions?" Dean questioned him surprised. "Besides Dad's?"

"Voldemort wasn't always corporeal," Harry said distractedly before returning to Sam. "We just need to figure out who possessed you and why they left." Harry furrowed his brow in concentration as he turned to Dean who nodded in agreement.

"Murder, guys!" Sam shouted bringing their attention back to him. "That's what I almost did."

"But it wasn't you, alright?" Dean stood hurriedly to confront his brother. "I mean, it might've been you, but it wasn't _you_."

"Possession does that," Harry agreed as he too stood. "You're not to blame."

"Maybe I was," Sam responded and Harry's face scrunched in confusion. What the hell was he talking about? Of course he wasn't responsible if he'd been possessed. "I think maybe more than you know." He gave Dean a significant look from his seat. The older man sucked in a deep breath while Harry glanced repeatedly between them. He was getting frustrated with them for keeping something important from him.

"What the hell does that mean?" Harry asked angrily. He turned to Sam his green eyes softening. "Sam…?" The youngest Winchester sighed heavily, knowing he couldn't lie to his baby cousin but didn't really want to tell him the truth.

"For the past few weeks, I've been having…I've been having these feelings," he said tiredly. Harry dropped onto the bed behind him. This was sounding way too much like fifth year, just before Sirius died. He didn't know if he could handle it again, especially since this time he'd be watching his cousin go through it. He'd been so awful to his friends, he couldn't deal if Sam rejected him, pushed him away like he'd done to Ron and Hermione.

"What feelings?" Dean asked, glancing towards Harry before returning his gaze to his brother.

"Rage…hate," Sam said softly. "And I can't stop it. It just gets worse. Day by day, it gets worse. " Dean sighed as he sat beside Harry.

"You never told me this," he replied, trying to remain calm and understanding, neither of which were his strong suits. His primal instinct to protect his brother was warring with his other dominant instinct, to bottle his emotions and not talk about this. Dean took a deep breath in an effort to control himself.

"I didn't want to scare you," Sam said softly.

"Well, bang-up job on that," the older man replied after which Harry snorted. Both brothers turned toward him, eyebrows raised. He shook his head exasperated.

"You said the same thing to me this morning," the wizard said slowly. "And it was just as dumb then as it is now." He turned to Sam and pierced him with his green eyes. "Look. I know what you're going through…literally." Harry sighed as he dropped his head before running his hands through his hair. "A couple years ago, I was angry, like really angry, at everyone and everything. I was horrible to my friends, to my professors, everyone…and I didn't know why. I didn't know where the anger was coming from, why I was so upset all the time."

"What happened?" Sam asked lowly, an odd glint in his eye as he listened to his cousin's story.

"Voldemort," Harry replied, missing the older boy's flinch. "He was behind it all—"

"You mean like the Yellow-Eyed Demon," Sam said turning to his brother. "You know he has plans for me. And we both know that he's turned other children into killers before too."

"Whoa, Sam," Harry said shaking his head emphatically. "That is not what I meant at all."

"It sure doesn't seem like that," the youngest Winchester responded standing. "It feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely, I'm just becoming—"

"What?" Dean asked angrily as he stood to face his brother.

"Who I'm meant to be," Sam said, his brown eyes flashing with aggression. "I mean, you said it yourself, Dean, I've gotta face up to who I am."

"I didn't mean this!"

"But it's still true!" Sam shouted. "You know that! Dad knew that, too! That's why he told you if it ever came to this—"

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean exploded, interrupting his brother from saying his greatest fear out loud, especially in front of their cousin. They'd decided not to tell Harry exactly what John had requested of his first born to do to his second with his dying breath; he didn't need to worry about that.

"Dean, you promised him," Sam said frantically. "You promised _me_!"

"Promised him what?" Harry asked angrily. He turned to Dean. "What did you promise him? What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Dean told his cousin before returning his attention to Sam. "No. Listen to me. We're gonna figure this out, okay? I mean, there's gotta be a way, right?" His hazel eyes were frantic with worry and anger as he tried to deal with his brother without alerting Harry to the real problem.

"Yes, there is," Sam said. The sudden change in his demeanor confused Harry and Dean for a moment until the younger man pulled a gun from his bag on his bed. He held the gun towards his brother. "I don't wanna hurt anyone else. I don't wanna hurt you or Harry."

"Whoa, Sam, stop!" Harry said. "Dean is not going to kill you just because you're a little grumpy. Tell him Dean."The older man didn't take his eyes from his brother, not even to comfort his cousin or assure him with his eyes.

"You won't," Dean said quietly but full of conviction. "Whatever this is…you can fight it."

"No, I can't. Not forever," Sam replied, tears filling his eyes as he pushed the gun into Dean's hand. "Here, you've gotta do it."

"You know, I've tried so hard to keep you safe," the older man said as he curled his fingers around the handle of the pistol.

"Dean…?" Harry asked lightly, tears pooling in his eyes before he brushed them away angrily. He pulled out his wand, ready to stop either one of them from hurting each other. He wasn't going to lose any more family, not now, not ever.

"I know," Sam said as he watched his brother little by little break down. Dean was staring at the gun intently while Harry watched both closely. Dean slowly shook his head.

"I can't," he said before he dropped the gun onto the floor. "I'd rather die.

"No, you'll live," Sam replied sighing before he dropped his head. A moment later, the youngest Winchester brought his head up, his eyes glinting in anger and mania. "You'll live to regret this." He raised his hand which had been hidden behind him and swung a gun down on top of Dean's head, dropping his brother like a bag of bricks.

"I don't think so," Harry said coldly just before a red stunner struck his cousin. Sam dropped heavily and just for safe measure, the younger boy shot an _incarcerous_ spell at the body, watching as thick ropes wrapped tightly around him. Once he completed securing Sam, Harry hurried over to Dean. He slapped his face a couple of times but decided it was taking too long, so he cast an _enervate_.

"What the hell happened?" Dean asked groggily. He sat up slowly rubbing his head, wincing as his hand brushed across the spot where his brother had hit him.

"Sam kicked your ass," Harry responded as he helped the older man to his feet. "I've taken care of him."

"I can see that," Dean said raising an eyebrow at the excessiveness of Sam's restraints. "We gotta get him outta here. Take him somewhere where we can perform an exorcism."

"Bobby's?" Harry recommended as he tapped his cousin with a disillusionment charm. Dean grabbed his leather jacket and keys, reaching the door before Harry.

"Isn't that a little far?" The younger boy smirked as he levitated Sam toward the door.

"Not for me." Dean's eyes grew large and he started spluttering as he followed Harry to the car.

**0~*~*~0**

Dean stumbled for a minute as his feet slammed into the ground outside Bobby's house. Harry had once again shrunk his car and apparated with both brothers to the salvage yard, though Sam was unconscious for the journey. The younger boy was already floating Sam up the steps before turning back to raise a questioning yet worried brow. Dean straightened and clamping down on his swirling emotions, he made it to the door in three strides. He pounded on the door just as Harry lowered Sam's feet to the ground so as not to startle Bobby too much.

The cocking of a shotgun filled the interior of the house. "It's us, Bobby!" Dean called warily and the pair watched defensively as the old man opened the door, his gun raised level with their chests. Dean immediately stepped in front of his brother and cousin, his hand snaking around to rest on the pistol in the back of his jeans. Sam was still floating limply in front of Harry, his head resting against his chest with his eyes closed. Bobby's eyes darted across the three of them; they hardened for a minute when they saw Sam's prone form.

"Yeah?" he asked, his grip tightening on the gun. "Where's the Impala?" Dean sighed dramatically but didn't take his eyes off his old friend.

"I told you he wouldn't take this easily," he said while Harry blushed sheepishly.

"Well, I didn't think he'd respond with a shotgun!" Bobby's openly hostile look grew confused. "I apparated us here."

"You did what?" he asked, lowering the gun slightly. Dean breathed a little easier but didn't let go of his firearm.

"It's a form of wizarding transportation," Harry explained. "I shrunk the Impala to make it easier." The old man's lips twitched slightly.

"Bet your cousin just loved that," he replied; Dean's gaze hardened as he stared at a point on the wall above Bobby's shoulder.

"Don't even get me started…" The old hunter surveyed them for a minute before dropping the shotgun to the side and pulling the door open wider to let them pass. Whatever they were, they'd have to pass through several traps and wards, including his holy water test.

After both boys had taken a hearty drink of water from a flask and explained why Sam was knocked out, Bobby relaxed around them. He grabbed a chair from the kitchen and setting it in the middle of the Devil's Trap they'd used on Meg, Harry lowered Sam into it after undoing the incarcerous spell. He reapplied some binding spells once they'd gotten him situated and stepped back, letting Dean and Bobby handle exorcising the demon from him.

At Dean's nod, Harry muttered, "_Enervate_!" Sam stirred slightly before lifting his head, smiling manically as he took in the sight of the three men before him. His brown eyes settled unnervingly on Harry as his grin widened.

"Hey!" Dean shouted, bringing Sam's attention to him.

"Well," he drawled slowly. "Back from the dead. Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn't it? Like a cockroach." A frenzied giggle erupted past Sam's lips and Harry tilted his head in thought while Dean glared harder.

"How 'bout I smack that smartass right outta your mouth?" He responded sarcastically. Sam sucked air through his teeth as he shook his head negatively; he glanced towards Harry again.

"Careful, now," he said his crazed smile returning. "Wouldn't wanna bruise this fine packaging."

"Oh, don't worry," Dean said lightly as he turned. "This isn't gonna hurt Sam much. You on the other hand…" The older man had a large bucket in his hands. He chucked it forward and the holy water covered Sam completely. Sam screamed in pain but he didn't smoke as demons normally would. Bobby glanced at Harry who had narrowed his eyes but Dean continued to interrogate his brother. "Feel like talking now?"

"Sam's still my meat puppet!" the man shouted violently leaning forward against his restraints. "I'll make him bite off his tongue." Dean shook his head slowly.

"No," he said. "You won't be in him long enough. Bobby?" The older man cleared his throat as he stepped forward slightly hesitant, his eyes darting between Harry and a book in his hands. The younger boy saw and gave him a steadying look. Sighing in resignation, Bobby began to read.

"_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii_…" His voice trailed off as he wandered around the room. Sam groaned and jerked in his bindings as Dean and Harry watched on.

"See, whatever bitch-boy master plan you demons are cooking up," the older man leaned down into Sam's face, talking over Bobby's voice. "You're not getting Sam. You understand me? Cause I'm gonna kill everyone of you first." Sam continued thrashing and moaning for a second longer before laughter rang out as he threw his head back in apparent glee. Bobby stopped his reading and glanced towards Dean.

"You really think _that's_ what this is about?" Sam smirked evilly as his eyes swiveled between the two in front of him. Harry hadn't said a word since they'd started although Sam kept sending him looks. "The master plan? I don't give a rat's arse about the master plan. I don't serve masters anymore." Dean motioned for Bobby to continue.

"_Humiliare sub potenti manu dei_—" Sam smiled haughtily as the words had no effect on him. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Oops," he said. "Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks." He dropped his head and began to speak but Harry stepped forward.

"So did I Bella," the younger boy snarled as he stared at the man who should be his cousin. Bella seemed shock for a moment before dropping the act and laughing maniacally, a glint in Sam's brown eyes.

"Aww," Bella said. "Itty bitty Potter's all grown up!" Harry narrowed his eyes as the smile grew on his younger cousin's face.

"Get out of him!" he snarled viciously. Bella's smile was so wide and crazed, she appeared as though she were barring her teeth like a hyena. He knew she was somehow possessing him or had cursed him because he'd been with her for over an hour. Hermione's potion may be accessible in England, unlikely because they were careful about who they sold certain potions to since the War, but there was no way Bella would be able to get it in the States.

The woman appeared to consider Harry's words. "Hmmm, no," she replied. "I don't think I will. Sammy's been so much fun, his pain so deliciously awful. _Ohh, Jess, noo! Dad, come back! _Poor baby…" Dean lunged forward but Harry was able to grab him before he did anything to his brother. Bella laughed cruelly as the young boy pulled his cousin back.

"Dean, don't!" Harry said glaring at Bella. "It's what she wants." Dean stopped struggling knowing his cousin was right and jerked out of Harry's grip, taking a defensive stance behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. "Look, I think I know what she did to him and I might be able to fix it."

"_Might_?" Dean asked, raising a brow. Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"It's just…I've never done it before but I think I can do it," he said trying to explain. Dean put his hand on his cousin's shoulder and squeezed. Harry nodded, understanding what Dean couldn't say in words. He turned back to Bella and pulling a chair forward, he sat facing the taller man.

Bella smirked as Harry took hold of Sam's hands despite the restraints. "Aww, is baby Potter going to—"

"_Silencio_!" Harry snarled under his breath and whatever Bella had been about to say was cut off as she gaped soundlessly. Giving one last deep breath, the younger boy gazed deep into Sam's brown ones, willing the natural connection between them to spark and muttered, "_Legilimens_!"

Having never tried to enter anyone's mind before, he'd only ever done it by accident or through somebody else's means, Harry wasn't sure if it would work but the darkness that clouded his vision indicated it did. The darkness didn't immediately dissipate, though it felt like Harry was now in a dark room instead of a dark tunnel.

"Sam?" Harry called hesitantly but received no reply. Sighing, the younger boy considered his options. First of all, he had to get to Sam, then they could both deal with Bella. But he didn't know where he was. He hadn't been concentrating on a specific memory he wanted to see so he was in Sam's mind, the odd blank space that occurred when people weren't thinking. He had to somehow get into his cousin's memories but he didn't know which one. _Think Harry!_ This is Bella. She obviously trapped Sam in his mind, probably in one of his more painful memories so he couldn't shut her out. What had she said earlier? Sam's pain was so "deliciously awful" - _Ohh, Jess, noo! Dad, come back! _The worst memories Sam probably had were of his girlfriend's death or his parents' deaths and since he'd been a baby when his mother died, Harry figured Uncle John's was more poignant than Aunt Mary's. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't with Sam during either memory so he didn't know what to concentrate on in order to get to them. Okay, what was Snape always going on about during their Occlumency lessons, that he had to clear his mind. He'd never been able to because he was always frustrated with the man, his emotions always got the better of him, especially when he would talk about his father or godfather. Maybe the art of Legilimency was the exact opposite, instead of suppressing emotions so the memory associated with them doesn't come to the forefront of the mind, it's about getting people emotional. Harry didn't know if he was right but he had to at least try. Alright, maybe if he remembered what it'd felt like learning of his uncle's death, he might see what Sam had gone through.

Harry cleared his own mind of all thoughts, going back to that long ago day when he'd lost the only uncle to ever care for him. He remembered the initial pain, followed by the numbness, the utter lack of feeling that enveloped him for hours after he'd woken up. Shapes were taking form before his eyes but they weren't clear, weren't distinct. Sam must have felt this too, but other emotions. Harry remembered the anger coming after the numbness, the anger at himself, at the world, at his uncle for leaving, hell, even at the brothers for not doing more, for having more time with him, for being with him when he'd died when Harry couldn't be. The shapes flew into being more clearly than before, Sam must have been feeling a lot of anger when his father died, but they weren't clear enough. Harry could have followed the memory if he'd wanted to, it would have been like viewing the world without his glasses, but he wanted to see it as Sam had. The last emotion that cascaded over him was sadness, sadness at watching his uncle burn, at knowing he'd never see him alive again, at being left once more. The scene came into focus and Harry finally saw the last moments of his uncle's life.

Sam was crouched on the floor, shouting for nurses, as his father lay beneath him not moving. Now he was on the bed, doctors and nurses flitting around the room, so many wires, tubes and machines beeping and whirring as they attempted to save John Winchester. Sam and Dean were in the doorway, hanging onto each other as they watched helplessly as their father remained motionless. The single long note filled the memory as all other sounds faded away.

"Time of death. 10:41 am." Harry felt tears roll down his cheeks as the memory started again. This was the prison Bella set up for Sam. She forced him to relive his father's death, forcing him to relive the helplessness and pain that this memory caused, forcing him to relive one of the most painful moments of his life.

Brushing the tears away, Harry hurried over to the man in the doorframe. He made to slap Sam, to try and snap him out of it, but his hand floated right through the body. A startling realization hit him. It was exactly like being in a pensieve, this was a memory. He couldn't alter it or interact with the people – he could only view it.

Harry glanced around the memory. Sam had to be here somewhere. As the memory started over again, the younger boy noticed a figure sitting in a chair near the window on the other side of the bed. His cousin looked as though he'd been put through the ringer, completely pallid and void of emotion, as though it had all been drained out of him. Tear tracks were evident on his face though none showed in his eyes, which were hollow and unseeing of the scene. Harry hurried over and shook Sam's shoulder roughly. The older man stilled before slowly rotating his head to stare at Harry in shock.

"Sam, it's me," he said. Sam stood abruptly and pulled Harry into a tight hug, running his right hand through his dark hair while gripping his shirt with his left. Harry relaxed into the hug and patted his cousin on the back before stepping back.

"I couldn't…she kept showing me…I couldn't fight her," Sam said brokenly as he rested his hands on Harry's shoulders, as though afraid to release him for fear he'd vanish.

"It's okay, Sam," Harry said reassuringly. "It's going to be okay. We've got to get out of here though."

"I can't," he replied. "I've tried." He looked around the room desperately, his brown eyes filling with tears again as he saw his father die. Harry put his hands on Sam's biceps and forced the taller man to look at him, holding his brown eyed gaze with his green one.

"Sam, this is your head," Harry said seriously. "You can think whatever you want. Just concentrate. Think of someplace calm, someplace happy. C'mon, you can do this." The older man seemed to physically steel himself against the images surrounding them by closing his eyes tightly and focusing on something else. Harry saw Sam begin to fade away and tightened his grip which caused the other man to reinforce his hold.

Darkness overtook them again but when it cleared they were somewhere Harry had never seen before. It was a small house, maybe two rooms – a bedroom and a living area. One wall was covered in postcards of various locations on Route 66 while a moldy plaid couch was pushed up against another. The kitchen was portioned off from the living room by a counter which was covered in newspapers and empty pizza boxes. An unmade bed could be seen through the open door of the bedroom. Harry wondered where they were and why Sam brought them here.

"Where are we?" Harry asked as he took in everything. Nothing was happening in the memory, no people, no animals, nothing.

"Flagstaff," Sam said smiling, clearly proud of himself. The younger boy stared at him blankly.

"And that means what exactly?"

"Flagstaff, Arizona," he clarified. "Nothing bad ever happened to me there. I was on my own for two weeks when I was fourteen. I lived off of Funions and Mr. Pibb."

"Who's Mr. Pibb?" Harry asked confused. Sam opened his mouth to explain but shook his head, deciding against it. The younger boy shrugged, letting it go.

"So what do we do now?" Sam asked, getting down to business as he took a seat on the couch. Harry sat on the other side sighing and running a hand through his hair.

"We have to get Bella out of your head," Harry started but Sam shook his head quickly.

"I've tried, man," he said. "It's like I have no control when she's there. I mean, how is she even in my head? How are you in my head?"

"I'm here through legilimency and our natural mental connection," Harry said. "She's here…well, I don't know how she's doing it. I think she's controlling your body through an altered form of the imperious curse."

"Wait," Sam said holding up a hand. "I'm being controlled?"

"Yeah," Harry said surprised. "You…never mind. Don't worry. Dean and Bobby are watching over your body, which is a little tied up right now. Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," Sam replied. "So how do we get her out?"

"Just like we would a normal imperious curse," Harry said. "Through willpower. I think the reason she trapped you in your memories was so you wouldn't, or couldn't fight her. She can tell you what to do but she can't make you do it. By keeping you distracted, you can't fight back and she can take over your body. It's not the true imperious curse, because then the person is physically aware of the things they're doing but they can't resist, but it should be overcome like the real curse."

"So as long as I tell her to get out, she'll get out?" Sam asked disbelievingly. Harry shook his head.

"Bella's not just gonna disappear because you tell her to," he replied. "You're going to have to be stronger than her mentally, force her out. But don't worry, I'll be there to help you." Sam appeared to consider it for a moment before nodding his head.

"Alright, let's do this."


	38. Part X: Chapter 37

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Born Under A Bad Sign". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **Ahh, the intermediary chapter. Hopefully this answers a few questions. Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, alerted or favorited this story. I always smile when I see I have a new review in my inbox; seriously you guys make my day! Thank yous are in order to Kirallie, my amazing beta who puts up with my spastic spurts of inspiration. Also, for anyone celebrating the holiday...HAPPY THANKSGIVING! May you all have a fun-and-family-filled turkey day.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

Harry was able to get Sam back to the netherspace in his mind, once they had a working plan. The darkness surrounded them, though it didn't feel nearly as constricting as it did when Harry first arrived. The younger boy was assuming that since Sam was with him, the area was much more receptive than it was of simply him.

Neither was entirely sure how to make Bella appear so they could force her out but Sam thought that since it was his mind, as Harry kept telling him, he could simply make her show up. Harry thought it sounded plausible and since he was making everything up as he went along, it was worth a shot. Sam took a deep breath, hardening himself against Bella's manipulations before he called out.

"Bella!" The shout seemed to be swallowed by darkness and both looked around. Harry didn't expect the crazed woman to suddenly appear. She'd find ways to use the darkness, to keep herself hidden from them as she attempted to figure out a way out of the situation. Harry had seen Bella in action too many times; he knew she was smart, crazy but smart; she was willing to do what she had to in order to survive. Harry just had to make sure that he kept Sam safe from this woman. He wasn't going to lose anybody else to her ever again.

"Is little Sammy ready to play?" The sing-song voice filled the darkness and Harry and Sam spun on their heels trying to find the source. "Baby Potter never liked to play my games but you will, won't you?"

Sam's eyes froze into brown crystals as they pierced the darkness. Anger was radiating from the taller man and Harry felt calmed immediately because he suddenly realized how much his cousin loved him. Dean showed his love through protection, through his mothering, while Sam did it by acting as an older brother: someone he could gang up on Dean with, someone to show him how to use a computer, someone to help him clean weapons when Dean wasn't looking. On hunts, Sam always kept an eye on him but he was more likely to let Harry make mistakes and take risks than Dean was. Now though, Harry knew Sam was going to be just as protective, just as aggressive toward Bella as Dean would have been. He was suddenly filled with happiness at the realization.

"Sorry, I don't play games," Sam said icily and his eyes narrowed. The area he was looking at was suddenly illuminated and a woman was shown standing twenty feet from them. Sam's mouth morphed into a wicked smile. "Hello Bella."

The woman looked slightly better than she had when she was with the demon. Her dark hair hung around her face in healthy waves though it was still slightly gaunt. Her eyes still held a touch of mania which was evident in her stretched, demented smile. She lurked forward lankily and began to circle the two boys.

"So, if you're not gonna play with me, why'd you call me here?" she asked. "Don't you like my presents to you?" Sam laughed hollowly.

"You mean my memories of the worst times of my life?" he asked sarcastically. "Thanks but no. It's time for you to leave." Bella's smile grew and she shook her head slowly.

"Sorry, I like my playground," she replied in glee. "The only one better would be little Harry." Sam stepped in front of his cousin and practically snarled at the woman.

"You are never going to hurt him again!" he said viciously to her but she wasn't intimidated by him. Bella was only afraid of power, true power, and empty words meant little to her. "Now leave."

"You're not strong enough to get rid of me, little boy," she said, her voice dripping with disdain and anger at his pretentiousness. "I have control of you and there's nothing you can do about it."

Harry stepped up for the first time and grabbed his cousin's hand, completing the circuit throughout their minds. "Maybe he can't but he's not alone. You know you can't control me, Bella."

"No!" she shouted in despair and anger, her eyes enlarging and becoming more crazed.

"Leave," Sam said harshly and Bella stumbled back as though she'd been physically hit. She leaned forward against an invisible barrier comically, her face losing all its beauty in her rage and madness. "Leave!"

Bella shouted as she was forced back more forcefully. She appeared to be losing the fight against the barrier once she had regained her position. "This isn't the end! You will never be safe from me, Potter! You hear me, never!"

"Now," Sam snarled and Bella disappeared into the darkness, kicking and screaming. Harry glanced around warily, not sure she was entirely gone but Sam sighed heavily, a smile making its way across his face. "She's gone."

"You sure?" Harry asked hesitantly. The older man nodded.

"Yeah," Sam said. "I don't feel her any more. I only feel you."

"Oh," he replied surprised. He hadn't thought about how his presence in his cousin's mind affected Sam. Harry turned toward him and smiled cheekily. "That's good." Sam gave him a look.

"Harry, I love you but get out." The younger boy started laughing as he pulled back from Sam's mind and Bobby's living room came into focus. Dean was pacing around the room while the older hunter was sitting on a chair with a book spread across his lap. As soon as Harry shook his head to clear it, Dean crossed the room in several strides. He turned the younger boy to face him which caused Harry to break his grip on Sam's hands. Dean's hazel eyes were zipping between Harry's green ones.

"You with me, squirt?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, Dean," Harry replied adding an eyeroll for extra measure. The older man's lips twitched as he shook his head, knowing he was trying to get a rise out of him.

"As touching as this is, can I get up?" Sam asked. The other two turned to look at Sam who was pulling fruitlessly at the bindings. He was clearly unhappy with the current arrangements, especially since Dean was no longer worried about him. Dean folded his arms across his chest and leveled his younger brother with a withering look.

"You really you?" he asked brusquely. Sam sighed heavily.

"Dean, let me up," the younger man said with a whining note in his voice.

"I don't know man," Dean said lightly. "My baby has been through a lot cause of this. I can't just let you go if you're—"

"Dean!" Sam shouted. Harry smiled but held out his hand to Dean who had been holding onto his wand while he'd been traipsing through his cousin's mind. The older man sighed dramatically but gave the wand to Harry who immediately tapped it against Sam's bindings. They released him and the youngest Winchester bounded from the chair. He rubbed his wrists as he moved around the room in agitation. Apparently not being in control of his body wasn't very comfortable.

"You three princesses done?" Bobby asked gruffly from his chair. "Can I have my house back?" Harry smiled as both brothers looked sufficiently chastised.

"Ah, Bobby," the young boy said sweetly and a cheeky grin. "You know you love us." Bobby gave him a leveled glare.

"Boy, I may love you," he conceded. "But I'll kick your ass if you think you're gonna to stay."

"You got a hot date, Bobby?" Dean teased as they put the room back together from Sam's possession. Bobby deigned them unworthy of an answer. Once they had cleaned up, Sam was hurrying the others toward the door. However, he stopped abruptly at the sight of yard, or more precisely the lack of Impala in it.

"Where's the car?" he asked as he turned to face the others.

"_You _got a hot date?" Dean said sarcastically, wondering why his brother was trying to push them out of the house.

"I shrunk it," Harry replied, knowing Dean wasn't going to. Sam stared at his cousin in surprise, stopped momentarily from his pursuit.

"You shrunk the Impala?" he asked. "_Dean_ let you shrink the Impala?"

"Like I said," Dean said gloweringly, "my baby's been through a lot cause of you."

"Apparently," Sam said still with a shocked expression on his face. He turned to face Harry. "You, uh, wanna change her back?"

The younger boy rolled his eyes but proceeded to take the small car from his pocket, place it on the ground and enlarge it back to its normal size. As soon as he was done, Sam was practically shoving him in the backseat; however, Harry had had enough.

"Sam, stop!" Harry shouted as he dug in his heels. "Why are you trying to get us out of here so quickly?"

"I just am, Harry," he replied cryptically. "Now get in the car." Harry's green eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. Dean was watching from the sidelines but he wasn't saying a word. This was Sam's mess and he wasn't about to step in and clean it up.

"Not until you tell me why," Harry said lowly.

"Harry…"

"No!"

"Because I said so, that's why!" The explosion was quite unexpected. Dean had never thought his brother would have ever said that, mostly because that was their father's line nine times out of ten and Sam had hated it every time. The youngest Winchester ran his hands through his hair distractedly while Harry's eyes flickered toward Dean uncertainly.

"Alright, Sam," Dean said as he stepped forward. "What's going on?"

"I…" he sighed heavily. "I gotta find her. She's out there and I gotta find her." Dean shook his head in frustration. This was why they didn't let their emotions get the better of them on a hunt, cause they make mistakes. Sam wouldn't ordinarily consider leaving a base of operations without a plan just to chase some crazed psycho bitch – that was normally Dean's forte. They could all see it; Sam was merely running. Harry heaved a huge sigh and the brothers turned back towards him.

"You know, if you lot would just tell me this stuff, all this could have been avoided," Harry said irritated.

"You know where Bella is?" Dean asked incredulously.

"No," Harry replied as he happily got in the car. "But I know where we can find out."

**0~*~*~0**

Last time they had been this close to a wizarding community, Harry had wanted to suddenly turn into a chameleon, be able to blend into the background so that no one would notice him. Now however, he was counting on his reputation to get him the information he needed with as little fuss as possible.

After apparating one final time with the brothers, both of whom were in agreement that driving was by far the better way to go and Harry would not be "driving" for a while, the three of them made their way through downtown Boston. The streets were busy with tourists and shoppers, pedestrians and bikers. Harry would have loved to have had time to look around, take in all the sights of the historic city but unfortunately they had little time to waste. Bella had been expelled from Sam's mind, possibly damaging hers but definitely slowing her down a little, giving them a slight advantage which Sam was more than happy to press.

"Your contact lives in Boston?" Dean asked, his hazel eyes dancing around as he assessed the people and various exit strategies.

"Actually, I'm not sure where they live," Harry replied tilting his head to the side shrugging his shoulders. "But they more than likely work here."

"_More than likely_?" Dean asked as his eyebrows rose in consternation. Harry was too busy looking around the area to really pay attention to his cousins so when he replied, it was quite distracted.

"Uh huh," the younger boy muttered before his eyes zeroed in on a non-descript building kitty-corner to them. It was older, possibly as old as the city itself though for some reason it hadn't been torn down yet. Its large stone block walls were still sturdy but the thatched roof could do with some work. On either side of the small structure, large twenty-first century buildings dwarfed it, both in elegance and size. Bostonians had long since accepted the building, had given up trying to get it condemned since it seemed the building had a guardian angel keeping it open, especially since there was two pots of begonias sitting innocently beside the door. Harry started toward it.

Dean and Sam glanced toward each other in confusion before following the younger boy. Harry was peering at the building diligently, surveying the boarded windows and doors with a practiced eye when the brothers caught up with him.

"Uh, dude," Dean began once he realized Harry wasn't stopping his inspection of the building. "What are you looking for?" The younger boy glanced up and saw both older men looked uneasy, as though all their supernatural senses were going off but instead of a devil-may-care attitude, they looked like they wanted to bolt. "Cause I don't think your contact works here."

"Sorry, I forgot," Harry said sheepishly. He wandered a few feet from the old building and Sam and Dean both relaxed immediately. "I'm fairly certain this is the entrance to the AMG; I just can't remember how to get inside." He turned to look at it again, a frustrated expression crossing his face. "I know it should be around the door but…"

"Wait," Sam said confused. "The American Magical Government is housed in a condemned building on Beacon Street?"

"This is only for the muggles," Harry replied easily. "It's not like wizards can have their own offices in the Capital Building. We use buildings that muggles don't care about, that they ignore – then we add muggle-repellant spells and notice-me-not charms. This keeps them from looking too closely. Inside will probably look a bit better."

"You guys take paranoia to a whole new level, you know that right?" Dean asked as he watched Harry return to his surveillance. The younger boy gave him a sour look before replying.

"If you went through the Salem Witch trials and the Spanish Inquisition, you'd be a little paranoid too." Sam smirked at his brother gob smacked expression at their cousin's retort.

"How do you know where the entrance is?" Sam asked still smiling.

"Hermione looked it up for me, just in case, y'know?" Harry responded. "When she told me about it, I didn't think I'd ever have to use it but now I'm glad my best friend can't leave well enough alone. She said it was in the oldest building on Beacon Street, the entrance was through the door but to open it you had to…" As Harry spoke through the earlier conversation, he cleared his mind and realized what he'd missed before. "Look under the flower pot."

Harry lifted one of the pots and peered underneath before smiling. He reached his hand and pulled out a small gold key.

"It can't be that easy," Dean said incredulously once he and Sam moved closer to Harry. Although they now knew why they felt uneasy near the building, it didn't change the fact that _they felt uneasy_. Harry smirked over his shoulder and put the key in the lock.

"Only one way to find out," he said before turning it. A soft click sounded and Harry pushed the door open. Inside, the building was just the same as the outside – old. Although it appeared small compared to the buildings next to it, the interior was entirely bare leaving a large open space. The wooden floor was covered in dust and straw bits from the ceiling. The boys wandered into the space and looked around. Dean turned back toward his cousin with a speculative look on his face.

"Yeah," he commented lightly. "Lots better."

"Can I help you boys?" A woman was making her way towards them. She was slightly stooped with age, her graying hair pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck while her black robes hung limply about her frame. The brothers glanced at Harry who swallowed nervously. Setting his face, he cleared his throat, deciding to take the bull by the horns.

"We need to go to the auror department," Harry replied. The woman smiled and nodded gently.

"Name?"

The simple question had the most complicated answer but the younger boy knew he couldn't just waltz into the American government and not give his name, no matter how inept it was. Hoping it would be enough, Harry took the plunge.

"Harry Potter."

**0~*~*~0**

The office was small with very few pieces of furniture and no decorations lining the walls. That was not to say it was sparse. Most of the space was filled with files, papers and books, all pertaining to one case or another. Just like in offices in Britain, small paper airplanes zipped in and out occasionally, though the man they were addressed to rarely looked at them.

Andrew Carnegie was a weathered man, older than he should be and still able to do his job. His dark hair was peppered with grays and his hazel eyes sparked with intelligence. His blue suit had seen better days but he wore it well; a dark robe was hanging by the door almost as an afterthought.

The boys had shuffled into the office, taking in the clutter and the man they'd been sent to see. Andrew had indicated the seat in front of him without looking up from his work. He signed the document with a flourish of completion and shoved it into a file which he let fall onto a pile beside his desk. He released a sigh before clasping his hands in front of him.

"You boys asked to speak to an auror?" It was posed as a question but Harry knew it wasn't meant to be answered.

"Umm, yeah," Harry said slowly, grateful and a tad confused as he hadn't commented on his status yet. The older woman had immediately recognized his name and let them pass without question. "We're looking for someone and we think you can help."

"I see," he replied nodding his head and leaned back in his seat. "Who?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry said after barely a thought. Andrew sat up straighter, his features hardening a little.

"You think she's here?"

"I know she is."

Silence descending after Harry's bold statement and hazel eyes flickered between the three younger men assessing. After a minute in which the auror debated with himself, he got up from his desk and hurried over to the wall where several files were precariously stacked.

"We've been getting reports all over the country of a woman using magic to torture and kill muggles," Andrew said as he gave some files to Sam unceremoniously. "However, they went through muggle police first, so by the time we heard about it, she was long gone." He pulled a large rolled up piece of parchment from beside his desk and laid it out. A map of the country with several blinking colored spots shown up at them. The boys stood up and leaned over the map. "The yellow spots are places we think she's been, green are confirmed sightings and red are places where she's killed. We have ten muggle deaths so far but those are only the ones we know about."

"Ten deaths and you guys don't know who she is?" Dean asked incredulously. Andrew glared at him as his stood up straighter.

"My first thought wasn't exactly a crazie from Britain," the older man quipped caustically. Harry wasn't really paying any attention to the pissing contest taking place above him; he was studying the map. Sam eyed him with consideration.

"What do you see?" he asked his cousin who shook his head with a look of concentration on his face. Andrew turned away from Dean.

"I can't figure it out," he said. "It looks like she's randomly killing people." Harry shook his head.

"No, she's got a purpose." He withdrew his wand and started to point it at the map but stopped, looking up. "May I?"

"I don't see why not." Waving his wand over the map an exact duplicate formed next to it. He began to start on the files pertaining to Bella's case. Andrew watched the process."What does your ministry think about all this?"

"They don't," Harry replied giving him a significant look before returning to his work. "Let's just say this is more of a personal matter." Harry couldn't help but glance at his cousins who gave him reassuring looks. Andrew caught the exchange.

"You ever gonna introduce these two?" Having finished copying the last file, Harry put the lot into his bag and looked up.

"No," he said simply. Andrew nodded knowingly before the younger man turned toward the door. Just before the three cousins reached it, Andrew called out.

"Potter," he said. They saw he had a hard glint in his eye. "I want in when you catch her. This may be personal for you but it's my people she's killing." Harry nodded but didn't reply.

As they exited the small building back onto the busy Boston street, the boys were quiet, each lost in their own respective thoughts. Finally, Dean broke the silence.

"I got one question for you," he said. His cousin raised a dark brow.

"Only one?" he replied cheekily but the older man ignored him.

"You guys really travel through green fire?"


	39. Part X: Chapter 38

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Born Under A Bad Sign". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **Ahhh, another part done! Hopefully this meets everyone's exacting standards. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter. I'm glad you guys liked where this little arc was heading and Harry playing a more dynamic role. It took him a little bit to find his footing but he seems to have found his stride now. Hopefully I haven't dimished the brothers to sidekicks but I think I've got all of them playing fairly equal parts. Big thanks to Kirallie for betaing this for me; you rock chica!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

Seeing their cousin's world had been an experience for Sam and Dean; neither could get over just how _normal _everything was. Sure, there was magic everywhere they looked – people popping out of green fireplaces, airplanes flying without motors, moving pictures – but the people were just like any they'd seen in any office they'd conned their way into. They talked about sports, got frustrated about work or had an office romance, or at least that's what Dean hoped was happening behind that one cupboard door. They dressed differently but everyone looked so natural that after a while, the brothers felt they were the ones out of place.

Harry flowed easily between one world and the next. Even without the funny dresses, he fit in with the wizards just as comfortably as with Sam and Dean. Or so they had thought.

"Merlin, I'm so glad that's over," Harry exclaimed as he flopped down on Dean's bed. The brothers glanced at each other as they dropped their duffels.

"Why?" Sam asked. "Not that I like walking into any type of police station but it was kinda interesting to see everything." Harry shrugged as he sat up.

"Yeah," he agreed." But back home, the ministry and I didn't exactly see eye to eye on a lot of things. Knowingly walking into the AMG and telling them, 'I'm here!' isn't exactly my idea of a pleasant afternoon. It's why I like it here: no one knows me." Caught in his own thoughts, he didn't notice Sam and Dean's looks.

"So how's all this gonna help us find her?" the oldest Winchester asked conversationally. "She's not exactly firing on all cylinders. You sure there's a pattern?"

"Oh there's a pattern," Harry said. "Bella may be a few knuts short of a sickle but she's smart. She knows how not to get caught and she always has an agenda. I'm not saying some of these weren't random acts of fun for her but they all served a purpose. We just need to figure out what it is."

"You think it has anything to do with what she did to me?" Sam asked hesitantly. Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Possibly," the younger boy said. The boys, or rather Sam, spent the better part of the afternoon researching Bella's movements and her victims, trying to find her pattern or at least her motive. Harry, in an attempt to spend more time with Sam, tried to help but it ended up taking longer due to his ineptitude on a computer; the older man didn't seem to mind though. Dean "helped" by "supervising."

"I think I've got something," Sam said slowly. Dean nodded indicating he was listening from his prone position on the bed. "I don't think you're going to like it." The older brother turned toward him, a hard look on his face.

"Why?" Sam took a deep breath then inclined his head toward their cousin who had just come from the bathroom. Harry stopped, a deer-in-the-headlights look crossing his face at their scrutinizing expressions.

"What?" he asked innocently and slightly defensively.

**0~*~*~0**

"Son of a bitch," Harry muttered under his breath once Sam had laid out his evidence. "I really hate that bitch."

"So she's killing people that…what?" Dean asked with a confused look on his face. "Are in some way connected to you – your name, your appearance. This chick's got a serious hard-on for you." Dean dropped the papers back onto the bed, redhead Harriet Porter and green-eyed James Weston peering up at them.

"She's did it to get my attention," Harry said as he sat back heavily. "I didn't notice so she went after one of you."

"What does she want?" Sam questioned. "Why is she trying to get your attention in the first place? Shouldn't she be lying low, being a fugitive and all?" Harry fell into thought as he considered Sam's words. He tried to remember what Bella had said to him in Sam's head, to see if she had dropped any clues.

"She said she didn't care about the master plan," Harry said, a thoughtful expression on his face, "that she didn't serve any masters anymore."

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, confused where he was going with this. "Yeah, so?"

"Bella always served a master," the younger boy replied. "Everything she did, she did for him. She's smart and devious but it has to serve a purpose. When she tortured my friend's parents, it was to find out where Tom was. He didn't tell her to do it but it served a purpose, a master. She wouldn't give up serving the demon so quickly."

Dean shrugged. "She seemed to give up this Voldemort dude pretty quick."

"Yeah," Harry said slowly, a frown creasing his brow. "But I don't think she has, not completely."

"How does this help us find her?" Sam asked returning to the topic at hand. Harry considered the question as well as the papers he'd been given by Andrew. He already knew she was trying to draw him out but why?

"They want to separate us," he said suddenly as it came to him. "Here, look." He showed the brothers the dates the murders started. "This is right around when we first got the sword and began looking for the demon."

A look of understanding dawned on the Dean's face. "So knowing you'd come after her, she started killing people to draw you out, either breaking us up or distracting us from the demon."

"And when that didn't work, she went after my family," Harry finished.

"So where is she?" Sam asked adamantly. He was clearly frustrated. He didn't care why she killed those people or went after him, he just wanted to find her so she'd stop tormenting his baby cousin, one way or another.

"The last place I'd look," Harry replied."Right where I left her."

"In Sam's head?" Dean asked confused as he took a couple of steps away from his brother. Sam rolled his eyes while Harry shook his head.

"Bella one told me I couldn't use the Unforgivables because I didn't have the will to power the spells," he began as he started throwing things together. "During the war, I was known for a spell – _expelliarmus_. It's a disarming spell. "

"What's this got to do with anything?" Dean asked. "So you're a good kid, so what?" Harry turned back to his cousins and saw their expressions. They obviously didn't want him to take that final step but Harry knew that sparing some people can also get others killed.

"I could have ended this then, in the house. I could have let you defend your brother but she knew I couldn't let an innocent woman die." It took them a minute to understand.

"Wait, that woman you mojoed up," Dean started, "that was Bella?"

"Well, either her in polyjuice form or she imperiused her," Harry said. Before Sam could interrupt, he continued. "She'll be back at the house. She wants to be found so she'll stay where I can find her."

"Alright," Dean said with a hard glint in his eye. "Let's get this bitch."

**0~*~*~0**

Although neither brother particularly wanted to apparate, they didn't actually know where the house was located. Once their feet were back on solid ground, Dean glared at Harry and mouthed the words, "Never. Again."

The smirk fell from the younger boy's face as the trio made their way to the door, weapons held at the ready. Harry swallowed nervously. The last time he knowingly walked into an ambush, he'd been prepared to die. Now he wasn't. He wanted to live; he was done being the sacrificial lamb, the Chosen One, the one destined to die. He was a Winchester damnit! He had a hell of a lot more to live for now than he had to die for then.

Bella was sitting calmly in the kitchen where she and Sam had fought earlier, swirls of steam wafting up from a cheery mug of tea. The body of the woman was sprawled beside her on the floor, a permanent look of fear etched on her face. The crazed witch smiled at them as they entered, guns raised and ready.

"So glad you could make it," she said almost sweetly. "I was beginning to think I'd need to make another friend before you found me."

Dean's glare intensified but before he could take a step forward to fire the kill shot, Bella's hand swept through the air throwing all three boys against the walls, their guns clattered to the ground useless. A manic smile spread across her face as she gracefully rose from the table.

"You really think these _toys_ can stop me?" Bella asked disdainfully as she picked up Sam's Taurus between her thumb and forefinger. "Not with the power I now possess."

"So that's it, huh?" Harry asked as he minutely struggled against the binding magic. "It's all about power for you. You couldn't have cared less what Voldemort wanted so long as you had access to his power." Her dark eyes flashed dangerously as she started toward the younger boy but Bella pulled herself back, her anger morphing into triumph.

"You will never dare speak his name once he has returned," she said, "once I, his most loyal and trusted, have brought him back." Her plan fell into place once her words registered. She had a purpose; it was the same purpose that had sent her to prison sixteen years ago, to find Voldemort and bring him back. Bella found someone who had the power to do that so she followed him, learning all she could before using him for her own gain. The fact that she got to toy with Harry was simply a bonus. What Bella didn't understand was that, just as with Voldemort, the demon would never reveal all his secrets and knew exactly what she was up to.

Harry shook his head regretfully. "He's never coming back," he said. "Even if the demon could do it, he wouldn't help you. It's not in their nature." He flexed his hand experimentally as he held her cold gaze with his green one. "He's using you."

"He's only furthering my goal," Bella retaliated as she turned toward the brothers who Harry realized had been silent, too silent. "Killing pointless mudbloods in his pursuit of the boy-king." She ran her hand almost tenderly down Sam's face who pulled back from her awkwardly, unable to voice his displeasure. Her glare moved to Dean. "You on the other hand…you are an unnecessary burden." Sam's eyes widened in anger and he began struggling in earnest but whatever spell Bella had placed on them was quite strong. However, Harry was stronger. "You – you _mudbloods_, you filthy creatures don't deserve to live, don't deserve to breathe the air of the superior race. When my true master returns, he shall bring the world to its knees and rid it of you simpering masses. You shall no longer sully our pure blood."

"No, Bella," Harry said slowly in a dark voice, "_you_ won't." A gunshot echoed in the small kitchen as Bella's eyes widened in shock and anger. Red blossomed on her chest before she crumpled to the ground, revealing Harry's gun levitated behind her. The boys dropped to the ground, stumbling from the unexpected return of feeling in their limbs.

Harry walked stiffly to his gun, stepping deliberately over Bella's body and plucking the gun from the air. He set it on the table and walked from the room without looking back.

**0~*~*~0**

The silence in the kitchen was thick and slightly overbearing after Harry's exit. Dean sighed heavily before turning towards the door but Sam stopped him.

"Let me," the younger man said. He caught his brother's gaze and a silent conversation was had. Dean ran his hand through his short hair wearily and nodded. Without another word, Sam took off after their cousin.

Harry hadn't been gone all that long but he wasn't in sight once Sam exited the house. The car was still parked where they'd left it so he hadn't tried to leave that way. Unfortunately, the younger boy had magic on his side. He could transport himself anywhere he wanted instantaneously, he could travel through fire, he could fly –

An image suddenly returned to Sam, of a distraught Harry stalking out of Bobby's with an oddly shaped broomstick in hand after his father had died. Before scaring the shit out of the older man and Dean, Sam had watched as Harry had swooped and dived, pushing himself and his pain to the limit until he found peace.

Sam glanced around the area they were in, trying to find a secluded spot that would allow for flying. The house was pretty abandoned and off the beaten path but except for the forest, there wasn't anything to stop a random person from spotting Harry in the air. The older man tried to remember the forest but he hadn't exactly been alert when he was walking through it. However, a clearing stood out in his memory. He started for the woods hoping his mind would lead him to the right place.

After ten minutes of walking, the dense underbrush parted to reveal a round field of wildflowers and grass. Due to the cold, most of the plants were dead or dormant but a few splashes of color brought life to the place. Sam didn't see Harry in the air but he'd spotted his bag thrown haphazardly to the ground near the edge of the clearing. As he took a step forward, he noticed a figure sprawled in a heap in the middle of the grasses. Sam's long strides ate up ground quickly, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he considered the consequences of his cousin flying in his condition. He slowed though when he saw Harry's chest steadily rising and falling, his pained green eyes staring up at the sky above.

The older man bent his giant frame until he was lying next to the younger boy, arms pillowing his head as he watched the clouds drift lazily above him.

"I thought I'd feel…" Harry said quietly. "Anger, sadness, regret…something. But all I feel is empty. I killed a woman and I don't feel a thing."

"You're in shock," Sam replied knowing what his cousin feared. It was the same thing he'd been afraid of when he first started hunting – becoming the very thing he hunted, a mindless killer. "Those feelings will come."

Harry turned to face Sam and the older man saw him for what he was, a scared teenager. He put on a brave front but Sam recognized the look because he saw it every day on Dean. "When?"

"When you've had time to process everything," he replied, "to understand what you'd done."

"I know what I've done," Harry argued." I killed Bella. I shot her through the heart and she died. I killed her."

"Yeah," Sam agreed before silence settled on them. Harry wasn't ready for more and Sam knew he simply had to be there for him when he was.

The pair stayed that way until fifteen minutes later when Sam dragged his apathetic cousin back to the car. Dean was waiting for them, the stench of raw earth and burned bodies clinging to him. The older man's eyes roved over Harry, silently checking him over for injuries before trying to catch his eye. However, the teen merely slid into the back seat and slumped into the leather. Hazel eyes locked onto doe-brown and Sam sighed, shaking his head.

The brothers bundled into the car and drove away from the house that had changed their cousin's life.

It was two hours later as they were heading east back to Boston that Harry sat bolt upright. He began clawing at the door frantically, his green eyes wild but unable to focus. Dean pulled over and Harry scrambled from the Impala. He made it three steps before he bent double and heaved up everything he'd eaten. Tears leaked from his eyes as his body continued to purge itself even after it had nothing left to give. He began to sway from all the emotions swirling around but Dean caught him before he landed in his own sick. He sat him down on the road's edge and together they leaned back against the car.

Harry stared at his hands for several minutes, looking at them as though he was seeing them for the first time. He turned to Sam slowly, his watery eyes rising to meet his cousin's.

"I killed her," he said in a soft, weak voice. Sam swallowed.

"Yeah," he replied. "I know." The magnitude of what he'd done had finally settled on Harry. He wasn't sad that she was dead or regretted his action but he finally understood why the fake Moody said the entire fourth year class could say the _Avada Kedevra_ spell and nothing would happen or why Draco Malfoy looked so awful at the end of fifth year. Killing a person wasn't as easy as people thought, physically maybe but mentally and emotionally no. The knowledge that he took a life, that he stopped someone's heart from beating, was slowly destroying him. He felt as though a small piece of his soul had been ripped from him, that he'd lost a part of himself. The pain encompassing him was from that wound, from that raw enflamed abrasion to his very being.

"When will it end?" he asked brokenly. "When will I…"

"Get over it?" Dean asked. Harry nodded tiredly and the older brother sighed. "Sam and I can't answer that, no one can, but we'll be there to help you through it." Harry turned his gaze towards the horizon, trying to understand the emotions that had flooded his system. Snape had always said he needed to close his mind to his emotions but he couldn't. Dumbledore had said that to feel was to be human. Harry had always trusted Dumbledore more so he decided to take his advice and _feel_. The pain was there, the numbness as well but also anger at Bella for causing this, for hurting him even in death, and vindicated justice for what he'd done after what she'd done to so many.

A smirk crossed over his features as Harry turned back to Dean, though the mirth didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thought you said no chick flick moments…" The older man scoffed as he pushed the younger boy away from him. It was apparent Harry was trying to lighten the mood, shift everyone's attention from him and both cousins let him. No good would come from hashing this out; neither Harry nor Dean healed that way and neither wanted to try. He could see the pain still there but he knew that Harry would be alright…eventually. He'd make sure of it.

**0~*~*~0**

After two days of traveling, the boys made it to Boston. Andrew appeared shocked that they were back after only a few days though he masked it pretty quickly. Harry slapped the file he'd given them on his desk and nodded wearily.

"I'm guessing it's done," he said as he took in their features. Harry nodded once but didn't say any more. Andrew nodded to himself as he leaned back in his chair before rubbing his hands down his face. "What will you tell your minister?" Harry slumped into the chair in front of the desk and considered his next words carefully.

"_You're_ going to tell Shacklebolt," he began, "that in the course of your investigation, you came across Bella. There was a struggle and she was killed. You've already disposed of the body and you'll send the report along shortly."

Once he'd finished explaining everything, Harry got up again and turned to leave. "Potter, wait." The younger boy faced him questioningly. "You…you're alright. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"Well, actually there is something you can do." Harry explained that they were looking for someone, or rather something. Due to Andrew's thorough examination of Bella's movements, Harry hoped he'd be able to track the demon as efficiently. He gave him what little information they could without revealing the exact nature of the being they wanted. The brothers made sure he understood the danger of tracking the demon but Andrew knew the real danger lay in when they found him.

"When I have something, how can I get in touch with you?" Andrew asked as they were leaving.

"You know how to use a phone, yeah?" Harry asked. The older man rolled his eyes, indicating the room which was very much used by a muggleborn. "Right. Call this number and ask for Ellen. She'll know how to contact us." Andrew accepted the slip of parchment.

"Take care of yourselves, boys."

"You too, mate," Harry replied. "You too." As they left the city of Boston in their rearview mirror, the boys considered all that had happened over the last week. Bella had been killed once and for all, they had a possible new ally who was also tracking the demon, but more importantly, Harry's magic was expanding. He was able to perform spells without his wand, use mind magic and telepathy when he'd never been taught, and was more powerful than ordinary witches infused with demonic powers. His power was expanding faster than any of them had thought or even considered. None of them knew what to expect once he'd accepted his heritage magic but it wasn't this. The brothers were secretly worried about what the extra power boost would do to him but they knew him well enough to know when to push and now was not the time. He was still dealing with Bella's death but they'd need to have a talk soon. Now however, they were content to let him rest in the back seat.


	40. Part XI: Chapter 39

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **So, this a quick posdt before I head off to work, so if there any grammar mistakes I missed, I'm sorry. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter. I think we were all happy to see Bella go, unfortunately she's still messing with Harry, even in death. Thanks go out to Kirallie my awesome beta for looking this chapter over and getting back to me. I'm not sure if I'll be posting next week due to the holidays but we'll see, maybe a Christmas/Hannakah/winter solstice gift...anyway, if I don't post before then, Happy Holidays everyone!

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

**Part XI: Heart**

_So what if you can see the darkest side of me?  
No one will ever change this animal I have become.  
Help me believe it's not the real me;  
Somebody help me tame this animal I have become._

_"Animal I Have Become" Three Days Grace_

**0~*~*~0**

Sam watched as the medical examiner pulled the body from a cooler in the wall. He wasn't too surprised that he'd gotten stuck with morgue duty _again_, Dean hated viewing the dead bodies…and talking to the victims…and pretty much anything besides killing the baddie of the week. What did surprise Sam though was Harry. Ever since they'd caught this case, he'd been moody and distant. Sure he was a teenager but this time it was different.

"Here he is, Detective," the woman said bringing Sam abruptly back to the body before him. He impassively surveyed the body and the stitches covering his chest and neck. He raised his eyebrow appreciatively.

"That's a pretty nasty bite," he said morbidly.

"Mm-hmm," the ME agreed.

"You know what bit him?" Sam asked conversationally, though he had a fairly good idea but he wanted to hear what she had to say. The blond woman glanced back at the body and hesitated before responding.

"I haven't quite determined that just yet," she hedged. Sam turned toward her, opening his shoulders to show her he was willing to accept anything she threw at him.

"C'mon Doc," he wheedled, "off the record." She pursed her lips and eyed him.

"Okay," she said, "way, _way_ off the record?"

"Sure," Sam quickly agreed.

"If I didn't know better," she said slightly wary of Sam's reaction, "I'd say the guy was attacked by a wolf." Sam kept his expressions neutral but inside he was glad his suspicions were confirmed. They were dealing with a werewolf. Dean was going to be unbearable to live with until they finished this case. Ever since he was sixteen, his brother had a thing about werewolf cases that turned him into a little kid on Christmas morning, a seriously odd kid but a kid none the less. "But unless I know that the zoo is missing one of their lobos, I'm going with pit bull. I _like_ my job."

Sam chuckled as he nodded in understanding. Whatever it took for people to deal with the unexpected was fine by him because it meant they stayed out of their way and didn't look too closely. "Yeah, I hear you." She started to close the cooler when he cleared his throat, appearing nonchalant. "One more thing. This guy…was his heart missing?"

The ME turned to him surprised and a little concerned. "Yeah," she responded slowly. "How did you know that? I haven't even finished my report."

"Lucky guess," he said easily as he smiled.

**0~*~*~0**

Guns were spread across the bedspread and Dean sat in the middle of them, steadily working through them as he methodically cleaned his weapons. He looked up as Sam returned from the morgue. The younger Winchester grabbed a beer from the fridge and wandered over.

"This lawyer guy the first heart-free corpse in town?" Dean asked his brother as he perched on a chair facing him.

"The first man," Sam answered. "Over the past year, several women have gone missing. Dead bodies all washed up later in the bay, too deteriorated to draw firm conclusions."

"But no hearts?"

"No hearts," he agreed as he opened his beer and took a sip. "They were all hookers working Hunter's Point. Now, cops are trying to keep things under wrap, but they're looking for a serial killer."

"And the lunar cycle?" Dean asked practically vibrating with excitement.

"Mm-hmm," Sam said, knowing his brother was enjoying this a little too much. "Yeah, month after month, all murders happen in the week leading up to the full moon."

"Which is this week right?"

"Hence the lawyer."

"Awesome," Dean said as he laid the cleaned gun on the bed spread next to the others he'd completed. His face couldn't contain his happiness at what Sam was telling him and he had a small smile on his face the entire time he'd been questioning Sam. The younger man shook his head as he smiled inwardly.

"Dean, could you be a bigger geek about this?"

"I'm sorry, man," Dean said though he didn't appear sorry at all, "but what about human-by-day,-a-freak-animal-killing-machine-by-moonlight don't you understand? I mean, werewolves are badass. We haven't seen one since we were kids." Yeah, Sam remembered the last were he'd seen, his brother had been giddy for a week.

"Okay Sparky," Sam said sarcastically. "And you know what? After we kill it, we can go to Disneyland."

"You know what the best part about it is?" Dean asked talking over his baby brother. "We already know how to bring these suckers down." He held up a silver bullet between his thumb and index finger. "One of these bad boys right to the heart."

Harry glared at the brothers, particularly at Dean and Dean's gun, before settling more comfortably into the pillows on the bed. He'd been sitting on Sam's bed watching television all throughout their conversation, ignoring the brothers as best as he could without drowning them out by raising the volume; Dean had taken the remote. He refused to be a part of this hunt, not after he'd learned they were going after a werewolf. He'd tried to talk them out of it, tried to explain that not all werewolves were simply mindless beasts but Dean had argued that the only werewolves Harry had been exposed to were wizarding ones. They didn't take hearts as the ones the brothers had hunted before. Neither had wanted to back down which resulted in a stalemate, an angry, charged stalemate. Sam kept out of the middle of their fight which led to awkward nights and long car rides.

"You know you_ could_ feel a little bad about killing someone for something they can't help?" the younger boy muttered under his breath caustically. Both men stilled; Sam swallowed as he returned to getting ready to go while Dean glanced at his cousin guiltily. He shook himself before turning to Sam.

"So, what's our next move?" Dean asked.

"Talk to the girl who found the body," Sam replied evenly.

The younger Winchester pulled the door open and he shared a look with his brother as he stepped outside to wait for Dean, who was pulling on his leather jacket. He cleared his throat.

"You gonna be alright?" Harry raised a dark brow as he gave him a brief look.

"I think I can manage," he replied moodily. "I'm just practicing my magic." Ever since Bella's death, Harry had been honing his magical abilities, testing his limits and seeing how much his magic had grown since accepting his inheritance.

Dean gave him a look. "Uh huh," he said. There were a few…incidents that had the brothers wishing he'd figure out his magic sooner rather than later. "Just don't burn down the room." Harry rolled his eyes as the older man left the room, a smile on his face.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Harry sat up straighter and listened intently for the tell-tale purr of the Impala. Once he was sure the car had pulled away from the motel, the younger boy scrambled from the bed. Now that he was positive it was a werewolf his cousins were hunting, Harry had to make sure they didn't succeed. It was unlikely it was a wizarding werewolf but if he could save the person from getting killed for something they can't help, then he would do it. There had been research started when he'd left into muggle werewolves and finding a solution for them like Wolfsbane but it was ongoing and slow as most wizards didn't care for wizarding werewolves let alone muggle ones.

Harry grabbed his Berretta, tucking it into the waistband of his jeans before folding his shirt over it and attached his wand to the new holster he had bought in Boston. He just had to flick his hand forward and the wand would pop out; otherwise it was concealed by a disillusionment charm. Making sure he had his phone, the younger boy scribbled a quick note to his cousin that he had cabin fever and stepped out for a bit. With any luck, they'd never know he'd left.

San Francisco wasn't as major a magical center as Boston was in America but there was a small community within the city. Finding the magical hotspots hadn't been too difficult, getting in without anyone recognizing him had been. Harry decided some slight alterations would be enough that nobody would look too closely at him.

The alley he'd apparated into provided him with enough cover to perform the necessary spells. After lengthening and lightening his hair to a light brown as well as turning his eyes more hazel reminiscent of Dean's, Harry stepped out into the busy sidewalk. He walked casually for a few minutes, appearing to window shop before crossing the street and entering a coffee shop.

**0~*~*~0**

The brothers knocked on the witness's front door, holding their badges steady. A young woman with long dark hair and eyes pulled open the wooden door, surprise flashing across her face as she took in their badges. Sam and Dean smiled appreciatively at her before the younger brother explained why they were there.

"I don't understand," she said as she led them inside. "I already gave my statement."

"Right," Sam agreed. "Well, we just need to verify a few things." They entered the living room and another man stood up from the couch, his mission t-shirt drawing Dean's eye and a smirk to his face.

"This is my neighbor, Glen," the woman explained noticing the brothers' interest. "Glen, this is Detective…"

"Landis," Dean provided quickly. "And Detective Dante." Glen eyed them warily and edged closer to the woman.

"Well, I guess I'll leave you to it, Madison," he said before walking around the brothers, giving them as wide a berth as possible in the close space.

"Okay," Madison said with an understanding smile. "Thanks for the casserole."

"Oh how thoughtful," Dean said sarcastically. Glen glared at him before turning back to the woman.

"Just call if you need anything." She nodded and he gave her and the brothers' one last look as he left the house. Dean and Sam exchanged a look which Madison caught.

"He's sweet," she said trying to get them to understand. Sam smiled while Dean shrugged. "He came over to check on me. Have a seat." She pulled out a seat at her kitchen table. They waited until everyone was comfortable before continuing.

"You must be pretty shaken up," Sam started soothingly. "You were Nate Mulligan's assistant, right?" Madison swallowed and nodded slowly as she glanced at the table.

"For two years, yeah," she said looking up. She clasped her hands in front of her on the table to stop them from shaking. Finding a dead body didn't exactly make someone feel calm, especially when they were constantly being asked about it by the police.

"So, you knew all about him?" Dean asked. She nodded.

"Probably knew more about him that he did," she said. Madison smiled inwardly as she thought of her old boss. "Nate was…he was nice." Both brothers leaned closer expecting more but she didn't go on.

"But?" Sam prompted.

"Nothing, really," she said appealingly. "He had a few scotches in him, and he started hitting on anyone in a five-mile radius. You know the type." Sam glanced at his brother who was ignoring him by eyeing the woman sitting across from them.

"Yeah," he said as he turned back to Madison who smiled at him knowingly. "I do, actually." Dean seemed to catch that something was going on between the pair and cleared his throat seriously.

"Did he have any enemies?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked confused. "It sure looked like an animal attack."

"No," Dean said hurriedly as he backpedaled. "Yeah, we're just covering all the bases." She nodded slowly, a disbelieving look in her face. "Anyone that might have had a beef with him—a former client, an ex?" A look crossed Madison's face as she glanced down again.

"What?" Sam asked. She looked up and once again brushed aside Sam's perceptiveness.

"Well," she said slowly, "this is embarrassing, but my ex-boyfriend, Kurt—"

"Kurt have a last name?" Dean interrupted.

"Mueller," she answered swiftly unperturbed by his abruptness. "After we broke up, he went kind of nuts. He's…well, he's kind of been stalking me. He got it in his head that something was going on between Nate and I. He showed up at my office."

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"Kurt got into it with Nate," she explained, "threw a punch before security grabbed him. I was lucky to keep my job."

"When was the last time you saw Kurt?" Dean asked. She sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair.

"Actually, the night Nate died," she said confusedly as though she was just putting it together. "We were all grabbing drinks at this bar, and Kurt showed up."

"And…?" Dean said but Madison just shook her head.

"Nothing," she replied, "it was like he was watching me. Then he was gone. To tell you the truth…he scares me." The brothers stood up and thanked her before exiting the house. As they strolled down the steps, Dean turned to his brother.

"So what do you think?" The younger man knew what his brother was really thinking about and it wasn't the case but he also knew that Dean wouldn't appreciate Sam calling him on it.

"Stalker ex-boyfriend?" Sam mused aloud. "He hates the boss. And he was there last night." Dean considered the information carefully.

"You think he's our dog-faced boy?"

"Well, it's a theory," Sam replied.

"We've had worse," he said once they'd arrived at the Impala. He turned to face his brother over the top of the car, leaning his forearms against the frame.

"Yeah."

"What do you say we pay Kurt a visit?" Sam nodded as he pulled open the passenger side door. Dean gave one last look toward the house before sliding behind the wheel and driving off. He needed to get the problem with his cousin off his mind if he wanted to solve this case without anyone getting hurt.

**0~*~*~0**

The rich aroma of coffee filled Harry's senses as he got into line behind a heavy set woman. The atmosphere in the shop reminded him of a combination between Madame Puddifoots's and the Three Broomsticks – it was cosy, with a few secluded areas for privacy while remaining warm and inviting. The leather furniture and dark hues added to the ambiance. They weren't particularly busy so pretty soon Harry was standing in front of a smiling barista.

"What can I get for you sir?" she asked in a cheerful voice. Harry smiled as he replied.

"Yes, I'd like a tall tea and a copy of the latest Boston Quarterly." Her eyes sparked in understanding and she nodded imperceptibly.

"Of course, sir," she said as she wrote on his cup. "That'll be four seventy five." He fished a five out of his pocket and handed it to her. As she gave him his quarter change, she also slipped another coin into his palm. "Your order will be ready in a few minutes."

Harry smiled again as he stepped to the side to wait for his tea. It wasn't necessary to buy the beverage but he had a craving for tea. True, it wasn't British tea but it would have to do. He glanced at the coin in his hand, running his hand over it smoothly as his order was called.

Accepting the drink, he fixed it just the way he liked it before heading toward a curtain in the back of the shop. It appeared to be an entrance for employees, hanging over a doorway. He leaned against it casually, watching the patrons and sipping his drink before slipping behind the curtain. Just like the barrier to platform nine and three quarters, the curtain had a muggle repellent charm on it as well as a notice-me-not spell to keep them from looking too close.

The other side was similar to front of the shop, the same colors, the same furniture, the same environment, though this side of the shop had several glaring differences. There were several fireplaces that took up one wall as well as floating serving trays and a Weird Sisters song playing softly in the background.

Hurrying toward a spare fireplace, Harry put the coin into a slot beside it and a handful of floo powder flooded a bowl sitting on the mantel. He grabbed it and threw it into the fire as he said distinctly, "Shell Cottage."

The green fire flared and Harry stuck his head into the fire, seeing the familiar living room from the months he'd spent there during the hunt for the Horcruxes. "Anyone home?"

Footsteps were heard around the corner before Fleur appeared in his field of vision. Her radiant face brightened when she caught sight of the younger boy. "'ello? Who are you?"

"It's me, Fleur," the younger boy said. "Harry…"

'Arry!" He smiled at her congenially.

"How are you Fleur?"

"Bonne. Et toi?" The younger boy shook his head but answered nonetheless.

"I'm good." His face became more serious as his green eyes found her blue ones. "Is Bill home? I need to speak with him." She eyed his face but sighed as she shook her head in resignation.

"Bill!" she called. "'e will be down soon. Is everyzing alright?"

"Everything's fine," he replied trying to exude confidence. "There's just something I need Bill's help with." The older man could be heard moving in the background before Harry saw him. He seemed pleasantly surprised to see his baby brother's best friend in his fireplace. Almost two years since the attack by Greyback, Bill's scars were still quite noticeable though they now seemed a part of him.

"Harry! This is a surprise," he said as he squatted down in front of him. "You spoken to Mum since you've left?" Harry ducked his head slightly, a blush rising to his cheeks.

"Not personally," Harry hedged. "But Ginny and Hermione have passed some messages and I think she's forgiven me for leaving without telling her."

"Yeah," Bill smiled, "but the twins and Ron are still in the doghouse." Laughter bubbled in Harry's chest. "So what do you need? You didn't just call to catch up." The younger boy hesitated slightly.

"How much do you know about why I'm here?"

"I know about your relatives," Bill replied. "Only the family was told and I guarantee that no one is going to let it slip. They'd have to deal with Mum's wrath if they did."

"Right and do you know what they do?" Harry asked, his voice guarded.

"I do," Bill said just as guarded. Harry took a deep breath and nodded as he released it.

"They're hunting a werewolf," he said in a rush. "I think it's muggle 'cause it's eating hearts but…"

"What do you want me to do?" Bill asked confused. "Can't you stop them?"

"I tried but they won't listen to me," Harry said frustrated. "Dean, he's…he can be so stubborn. He's been hunting since he was little and there's not a lot of gray area. And granted, this guy _is_ killing people. Sam's more likely to listen but…"

"So what do you need from me?" Bill asked again, trying to get Harry back on track. Although it had only been a few sentences, the older man could hear the love and respect Harry had for his family. It was nice, distracting, but nice.

"I need you to help whoever it is get to that reservation you help out," Harry said. Bill sighed as he ran his hand over his face. He worked with a werewolf reservation that helped young wolves adjust to their situation and get used to the transformation in a place that was safe and secure.

"They don't normally take muggles," he replied. "Not enough research has been done into how the disease affects them and they don't want to take unnecessary risks."

"Please Bill," Harry pleaded. "Just talk to them." Bill sighed again but nodded his head.

"I'll see what I can do," he said. "I can't make any promises but in the mean time, keep your cousins from killing anyone." Harry smiled and nodded.

"I'll try," he said. "Speaking of my cousins, I should be getting back. They don't know I'm here and they tend to worry…a bit."

"Overprotective?" Bill asked smirking. Harry glared good-naturedly.

"That's one way of putting it," the younger boy said. "I'll try to keep in touch."

"Stay safe, Harry."

"Always." The teenager pulled out of the fire and rolled his shoulders to get the kinks out. Kneeling in front of a fire place wasn't exactly the most comfortable position but he'd been in worse positions, especially since meeting the Winchesters.

His tea was now cold but Harry sipped it as he slipped out of the coffee shop. He wandered aimlessly back to the alley, hoping Bill pulled through for him. He didn't want any more innocents to die due to circumstances beyond their control. Harry apparated back to the motel after tossing the empty cup into the nearest trash.


	41. Part XI: Chapter 40

**********Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Heart." I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

**AN: **So sorry for the long break! Hope everyone had a good holiday and New Year's. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter, especially those that asked me to update, they were nice little reminders that I needed to get this chapter out. Also thanks to my beta Kirallie.

**Summary:** Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

**0~*~*~0**

Dean pushed open the door to the motel room. He and Sam had decided to ask Harry if he'd like to come with them to check Kurt's apartment seeing as the kid had been cooped up all day. Plus it gave them a chance to make sure the room was still in one piece.

As he entered the room, Dean saw Harry quickly changing the channel and trying to look innocent. Having walked in on Sam doing pretty much the same thing over the years, the older man had a good idea of what his cousin had been up to. He felt his lips quirk into a smirk as he shot a glance toward his brother who was trying hard not to laugh before raising one blond brow in Harry's direction.

"Don't wanna know," he said as he dropped his keys onto the table. Harry glared at him affronted.

"I was just hanging out," the younger boy protested.

"I'm sure you were," Dean replied which Harry responded to with a look very similar to Sam's bitchface. "You wanna check out an apartment with us?" He paused as he appeared to consider something. "Unless of course you'd rather stay here and 'hang out'…?"

Harry rolled his eyes as he swung off the bed. He shut off the television as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. "Can we grab something to eat?" The brothers stared at the younger boy confused. He'd been adamant from the start that he wanted no part of this hunt and now he was willing to check out an apartment with them. Must have been more bored than they thought.

"Thought you'd never ask," Dean said as they got into the Impala.

"So what are we looking for?" Harry asked as he leaned forward against the back of the front seat. Dean steered them easily into the city traffic before responding.

"Anything to indicate if this guy gets a little bitchy once a month," Dean replied after stopping at a red light. Harry remembered Remus telling him about his dad calling his affliction his "furry little problem" and felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. Remus was still a sore subject for him, even after all these months.

After fifteen minutes, Dean pulled into a parking space outside a café. There weren't many cheap places to eat in San Francisco but Dean had a knack for finding them. The café was small but they served reasonably priced food with generous portions.

"So you think this is our…guy?" Harry asked returning to their earlier conversation as they entered. The brothers waited until they'd been seated and given their menus before answering.

"It's looking like it," Sam said. Harry bit his lip in thought and the youngest Winchester leaned forward. "Look, we're not gonna do anything unless we know for sure." He shot a look at his brother who sighed but nodded. The oldest man didn't really like that his cousin was so uncomfortable with this case. It didn't help that someone was going to have to die in order to stop this monster and Harry was still dealing with Bella's murder.

"Hmm," the younger boy responded noncommittally as he looked over the menu. Dean put his down, he already knew what he was going to get, and leaned on his forearms.

"Alright, cards on the table," he said. "Why do you got such a problem with this case?" Harry sighed and looked away. He really didn't want to talk about this but he knew he had to give them something. They were his cousins after all and he knew this rift between them was killing them, particularly Dean.

"I knew one," he said as he turned back to look the brothers in the eye. "He was my teacher, best we ever had really…He was also my dad's best mate." Dean could hear the finality in Harry's voice.

"What happened to him?" Sam asked as he took a sip of his coffee.

"He died in the war," came the quiet reply. Sam and Dean shared a significant look. Silence settled on the trio before being broken by their waitress to take their orders. After she left, Harry began playing with his silverware. "In the wizarding world, there's a stigma about werewolves, that they're less than human due to their affliction. Doesn't matter that we now have Wolfsbane, all people ever see is the stereotype." Sam glared at Dean who recognized the jab for what it was worth.

"What's Wolfsbane?" he asked as he ignored his brother.

"It's a potion that enables the person to retain their mind during the transformation," Harry explained. "It doesn't work on muggles," he added when he saw Sam open his mouth. He paused in thought as their waitress set their food down before them. "I guess I've got such a problem with this case because I've seen the prejudice against them and they don't deserve it. Okay, there are some that embrace the stereotype and do deserve whatever end they get but most, like Remus, just want to live their lives."

"Wait," Dean said, cheeseburger halfway to his mouth. "You knew a werewolf named _Remus_?" Sam rolled his eyes while Harry smirked at Dean's poor attempt at a joke. The older man put the burger down and sighed. "We'll do what we can to help this guy but there may not be a lot of options."

"Yeah," Harry replied. "I know." He knew that was the most he was going to get from Dean about dealing with the werewolf and he accepted it for what it was worth. He didn't mention his conversation with Bill or the possibility of the reservation to his cousins. He knew the reservation was a long shot because they didn't like to take on muggle cases, too many risks in an already dangerous situation, and he didn't want to raise anybody's hopes, least of all his own.

The rest of the meal was spent in quiet anticipation as they all considered what they were about to do tonight. Night had fallen by the time they'd finished and driven across town to Kurt's. It was a modest apartment building in a decent part of town; not exactly where they were expecting a deranged stalker ex to live. The brothers watched the area while Harry used his nifty spell to unlock the door before they entered the apartment quietly.

Dean wandered into the kitchen while Sam looked through his mail and Harry catalogued everything in the living room. It appeared well-lived in and taken care of, with very little clutter and few but personal adornments.

"Anything?" Sam asked distractedly. Dean closed the fridge and shook his head. Harry smirked; why his cousin thought there'd be anything in the refrigerator was beyond him.

"No," he replied. "Nothing but leftovers and a six-pack."

"Check the freezer," Sam remarked sarcastically. "Maybe there's some human hearts behind the Haagen-Daaz or something." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," Harry said lowly, "or perhaps he's hiding them in his knickers drawer." Sam and Dean exchanged a look as the older man pulled open the freezer door. As he turned to look inside, a loud crash sounded from outside and the three boys jumped as they spun on their heels. Dean quickly strode across the room while Sam and Harry drew their weapons. He stepped out onto the balcony, taking in the sparse furnishing but seeing nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn't until he peered over the side of the building that he noticed something startling.

"Sam, Harry," he called, "come here." The younger boys hurried over and spied what had caught his attention. "Check it out." Four sharp claw marks marred the side of the building sliding all the way down to the street below. Sam, Dean and Harry gave each other looks as thoughts raced through their heads. There was little doubt that Kurt was the werewolf. The tense silence was broken by a single gunshot. The brothers sprinted for the door while Harry studied the alleyway below. Swallowing, he disapparated and reemerged several stories later. As soon as he regained his equilibrium, he began running toward where the sound was heard. Harry skidded to stop at the sight before him.

A large beast-like creature was crouched over a body lying on the ground. At the sound of Harry's arrival, it rose up on it haunches and turned its yellow eyes towards the teenager. The creature looked like a demonized version of someone putting animal hair into polyjuice potion. It had all the characteristics of a wolf: the snout, the teeth, the claws, the fur but it had all been superimposed onto a man's body. Harry suspected this was what Remus had looked like halfway through his transformations. He raised his gun but the creature bound off in the other direction before he could even consider firing a single shot.

Sam and Dean rounded the corner and saw their cousin standing next to a dumpster aiming his gun down the alleyway. Harry appeared to be surprised but as soon as he heard their footsteps, he broke himself from whatever trance he was in.

"You alright?" Dean asked as he got closer. Harry nodded in response.

"Yeah," he said distractedly. "Just, uh…" He trailed off unable to complete his thought. He shook himself and made his way toward where Sam was inspecting the body. A policeman laid face-up, his face twisted into a look of intense pain and terror and his body ripped open for all to see. Harry crinkled his nose against the smell as Dean crouched to inspect it further.

"I'll call 911," Sam said reaching into his pocket for his phone.

"I'd say Kurt's looking more and more like our Cujo," Dean said and Harry found himself nodding.

"Looks like," he added despondently. The likelihood of the reservation taking a muggle were that was killing people was slim, especially since there were reports that he'd been at this for a while now.

"Dean, if he's out there," Sam said, "we better check on Madison."

**0~*~*~0**

Dean banged on Madison's door while Sam and Harry bounced on the balls of their feet as they waited anxiously for her to answer. Harry ran his hand through his hair nervously and bit his lip, his eyes darting around as he watched the corridors. Across the hall, a door opened and the younger boy spun on his heel, his hand going instinctively to his back where his gun was resting. Glen poked his head out and Harry eyed him curiously. The brothers barely spared him a glance before returning to Madison's door.

"What's going on?" he asked warily.

"Police business, Glen," Dean answered brusquely. The other man was about to reply when Madison opened her door.

"What is it?" she asked as she looked between the four guys standing outside her house. "Who's this?"

"New recruit," Dean responded shortly. Sam glanced over his shoulder at her neighbor.

"Well, maybe we should talk privately," the youngest Winchester said significantly. Madison nodded in understanding as she opened the door wider. They trouped inside and Harry smiled at her as he passed.

"Has Kurt been here?" Sam asked urgently as she led them into the kitchen.

"Not exactly," she replied as she poured them each a glass of coffee. Harry eyed the dark brew and proceeded to add as much sugar and milk to it as the cup would allow. He took a sip and was suitably surprised. He could handle the drink now, plus the caffeine jolt was nice.

"What exactly does 'not exactly' mean?" Dean asked as he eyed his cousin destroy a perfectly good cup of coffee.

"Well," she hedged, "he was outside last night. Just…looking. Just looking at me." Dean glanced at Sam which Madison caught. "Has he done something?"

"We're not really sure," Sam said as he tried not to smirk as his brother glared at their cousin for the coffee. Harry blatantly added more sugar before Dean physically took the container away from him. Madison watched them confusedly.

"It's probably nothing, but…" Dean said as he got a glint in his eyes, "we just don't wanna take any chances. In fact, one of us should probably stay here with you, just in case he stops by. Where does he work?"

"He owns a body shop," she replied. Harry set his cup on the table and sat up straighter. He wasn't going to tell Dean this but his coffee was now a sickening sweet mess.

"You mind grabbing that address for us?" the oldest Winchester asked and she nodded. "Thanks."

"I'll help," Harry said as he started to get up from the table but Dean grabbed the sleeve of his coat, pulling him back while she left. "Or not."

"Alright, you go," Sam said, "I'll stay."

"Forget that. You go after the creepy ex," Dean responded. Harry tried to leave again but the older man still had a hold of his sleeve. "I'm gonna hang here with the hot chick."

"Guys…" Harry interrupted but they ignored him.

"Dude, why do you always get to hang out with the girls?" Sam asked frustrated with his brother.

"Hello…" the younger boy tried again halfheartedly, tugging on his sleeve but his cousin wasn't letting go any time soon.

"Because I'm older," came the expected reply. Both Sam and Harry stared at Dean incredulously before shaking their heads in exasperation. The younger brother glared and took the cup of coffee that Dean had managed to hang onto while annoying Harry. He set both his cup and his brother's on the table.

"No," he said, "screw that. We settle this the old-fashioned way." He positioned his hands in a classic Rock-Paper-Scissors pose. Dean waited a beat but he realized that his brother was serious and sighed as he finally let go of his cousin and got ready. Harry crossed his arms over his chest as he watched. They fisted one hand and beat it three times in the other before throwing their hands; Sam threw a rock while Dean a scissors. Sam knocked his closed fist on top of Dean's hand.

"Dean," Sam groused good-naturedly, "always with the scissors." Harry snorted as his older cousin shock his head irritated.

"Shut up, shut up," he said. "Two out of three." Sam sighed but did one more round, his brother again choosing scissors.

"God!" Sam slapped his brother on the shoulder with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Bundle up out there, alright?" Dean grabbed Harry's arm as he led him from the room. The younger boy smirked as he followed him to the car being sure to keep his gaze averted.

"What did you need?" Dean asked once they were on the road headed toward the body shop.

"I was going to point out that you both could have stayed and I could stake out the—"

"Why the sudden interest in the case?" Dean interrupted before Harry could finish his thought. He bit his lip as he glanced toward his cousin. He'd been hoping Dean wouldn't pick up on that but his cousins hadn't stayed alive for this long by not being able to read people or spot inconsistencies.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked innocently.

"C'mon," Dean scoffed. "You came to check out the apartment with us after chewing us out about it and now you're offering to stake out the body shop…what gives man?"

"Nothing," Harry said shrugging his shoulders.

"Nothing? Werewolves are obviously a sore spot for you so why are you…" Dean stopped as he turned to face the younger boy. "You working us?"

"What? No!" Harry replied vehemently. "I just…look, maybe I realized it's better to try to find this guy before anyone else gets hurt than to just sit around and complain about it."

"Mmm," Dean said as he let the words sink in. He decided to let it go for now, knowing Harry wasn't going to discuss it further. There was more to it and the older man was willing to bet that Harry wasn't being completely honest about not playing them. He had an agenda and he needed the brothers' help to find the werewolf but knowing how righteous their cousin was, Dean didn't suspect it was anything awful.

**0~*~*~0**

Sam sat uncomfortably at Madison's kitchen table just after the sun had come up that day. He rubbed his hands on his jeans as sweat beaded on his palms. Madison was standing nearby sorting through her mail. She glanced at him and he smiled at her nervously. She raised a dark brow.

"Um…" she said uneasily, "do you wanna sit on the couch?"

"No, no," he said trying, and failing, to not look so awkward. "I'm okay."

"It's more comfortable," Madison wheedled. Sam smiled assuredly.

"I'm fine." She nodded disbelievingly before leaving the room. Sam sighed heavily once he was sure she was gone, once again rubbing his hands on his pants. This was ridiculous, he shouldn't be this nervous around a girl. He needed to get a grip if he was going to get anywhere with her. Sam straightened when he heard her walking toward the kitchen.

Madison set a laundry basket on the table and smirked as she watched Sam surreptitiously peer inside. She tipped it over and a pile of her underwear mounded on the table. The younger man quickly averted his eyes, a blush rising in his cheeks. He cleared his throat.

"You know, I think I will sit on the couch," he said as he practically bolted from the kitchen. He settled on the couch, trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable. He nearly jumped out of his seat as his cellphone rang in his pocket.

"Yeah?" he asked once he realized it was his brother on the other line.

"_Let me guess_," Dean replied. "_You're sitting on her couch like a stiff, trying to think of something to say_." Sam glared ahead of him at the television, imagining it was his brother. He hated how well the older man knew him.

"Did you find Kurt?" Sam asked instead, trying to change the subject.

"_No, he hasn't been at work all week_," Dean replied, laughter evident in his voice but letting Sam get his way. "_But because I'm good, and I mean really, really good_—"

"_Oi!_" Harry's accented voice could be heard over the line, objecting to Dean's assertion.

"_Okay, so Harry helped_," Dean amended. Sam could imagine his brother rolling his eyes and his cousin glaring. "_But anyway, I got a line on where he might be…What's she wearing?_"

"Bye, Dean," Sam said as he hung up shaking his head in affectionate aggravation.


End file.
